Does it ever go away? No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for...

Becca: Does it ever go away? Nat: No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though. Becca: How? Nat: I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and... carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful - not all the time. It's kinda... [deep breath] Nat: not that you'd like it exactly, but it's what you've got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And uh... it doesn't go away. Which is... Becca: Which is what? Nat: Fine, actually.

Does it ever go away? No. I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't. It's going on 11 years. It changes, though. How? I don't know. The weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you even forget it for a while, but then you reach in for whatever reason, and there it is. "Right. That." Which can be awful. But not all the time. It's kind of... Not that you like it, exactly, but it's what you've got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And it doesn't go away. Which is... Which is what? Fine. Actually.