My grief is shifting again. There are times when I feel like I’m crumbling still. At other times there is a vagueness that is new. Putting Ada to sleep tonight I realized it was Thursday and I had to think for a minute about how many weeks I would have been. (Thirty-three).
A couple of times today I felt grief touch me gently, like I was standing waist-deep in water. The wave would knock me back, just a little. Not enough to lose my footing, but enough for me to pause and realize oh, that was grief, and there it goes…
It’s odd. Part of me thinks that I’m doing really well – which in certain ways, I am – then I realize how many areas of my life are not functioning the way they used to. I can’t seem to return a phone call or write a thank you note. My sisters-in-law have left messages, sent gifts and in the moment of listening to the message or receiving the gift I am touched and want to connect. Then another day goes by and I’ve let it slip. I hardly speak to my family – my parents, my brother. The phone still weighs a thousand pounds. Ada and I have a hard enough time getting through the day right now without having my attention further diverted by a conversation she wants no part of.
So, I will apologize in person, but if anyone reading this is wondering why I haven’t called, haven’t written…I’m sorry. Please don’t take it personally. I keep thinking the fog is lifting – maybe it is thinning some – but really, I’m so used to it I don’t see it anymore. One foot in front of the other is all I can do.
Right now, my feet are going to take me to the couch, where I will watch a movie – something I’ve been wanting to find time to do for weeks. I don’t often give myself permission to simply relax. I need want it tonight.
On a side note, this is one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve ever read on baby loss. Read it. Please. Whether you know the pain intimately or not. (Thanks Leigh)