Whew, I'm so glad that's over.
A week into work, and I'm so damn tired. I'm assuming it's because I wake up at 7am, yet don't tuck myself into bed until 11pm or so... Could also be because I'm used to sleeping from midnight until 9 or 10am- this week has been a rude awakening.
The tiny, crevices of my mind play tricks on me and try to convince me it's an early pregnancy sign... I was exhausted when I was pregnant with Jack. I would tuck myself into bed soon after getting home from work and nap the evening away, awaking only to eat roasted chicken subs from Subway, then going back to bed and sleeping through the night. I feel like I could do that now, but I realize that I'm going through a huge adjustment. Back to work. Back to my "new normal". Back to life without my body, where some people aren't even aware I ever had a baby.
I caught the eye of a girl I used to walk to the train with on Thursday, she's aware I was pregnant and going on maternity leave. But I haven't seen her since I've been back, and she doesn't work on my floor. We have no mutual friends. I saw a puzzled expression on her face, and I know she must be dying to ask me why I'm back... I'm not sure she'll like the answer.
I'm have a hard time wrapping my head around living in this moment and not letting my days get away from me. It's May 14th, I'm 4 months after Jack, I'm 29 years old. I keep flashing back to where I was a year ago with a little babe in my belly. It also flashes forward to a year from now when I hope to have another little lady or fella in my arms. I get excited, caught up in the "what's yet to be"'s. Then I remember it's not my first pregnancy, that I've done all of this and planned all of this before. That I've done everything right, and yet everything is so wrong.
Grief can be completely overwhelming at times.
I have Jack's photo as my computer background (it's this one), and I find myself clicking off the documents to stare at his cute little face and body. My eyes move from his chubby cheeks, to his long skinny fingers, to his knee caps. I'm obsessed with his little knee caps, all bent and tiny in the photo. I wished I'd kept him naked more, so I could have explored his gorgeous pink skin more. To have pressed it to my body for warmth, I can't really figure out how all of him fit inside of me... But it was winter, and he hated to be nekkid... His father's son... I look at his knee caps and think how I should be looking forward to him crawling in the next few months and to him skinning his knees as a soccer player. But they'll only ever be tiny little knees.
Sometimes I think I can feel him with me. Not a floating around me "spirit" but I can sometimes feel the weight of his head on my shoulder, the heat of his skin radiating onto my body. But how can i have sensory memories that I barely established? I yearn to feel that again.
I want to give my husband another baby. He deserves it, possibly more than I think I even do. I've said it a million times before, but he is just such a great dad. He has so much love to give, and I think it's only been multiplying since we lost Jack. I know when we see a 2nd line on a pregnancy test he's going to be so, so thrilled. And we'll be so scared. Scared to open up our hearts and minds to love another little one, with no guarantee that baby will be coming home with us. It's such a mind fuck. Happy & sad, co-existing. To WANT to risk getting our hearts smashed up all over gain. It's a giant leap of faith, to know what it's like on this side and being willing to put ourselves out there again with the hope of having a different outcome.
Hope you're all having a good weekend.
21 hours ago