Today is the first day since I got home from the hospital that there isn’t a sympathy card in the mail. This makes my heart ache.
My heart aches for many reasons today. I miss my husband. I miss my friends. I miss my life before all of this pain.
I miss being pregnant, though not the blood or the fear. I miss the hopes and dreams, the questions, the doubts, the curiosity and wonder, the looking-forward-to, the little flutters inside that feel like butterflies and mean new life. I miss wondering how I’m going to handle two children and still do the things I’m learning to do to take care of myself. I miss the glow.
I look at myself in the mirror and am shocked by the bags under my eyes, the remnants of tears, the pale skin and gray hairs. I remember the fatigue of a newborn and the serene joyousness of being a new mama. I look nothing like that now. I feel huge and still look so pregnant. Without the advantage of breastfeeding to lose weight I will have to work hard to lose every pound that went on so easily. I look forward to finding joyful ways to do it. Ways that help me love my life – yoga, dance, hula hooping, walks on the beach. Yesterday I made it – slowly – to the grocery store. Four blocks round trip. I am healing quickly, just not quickly enough.
I feel isolated today, alone, sad. I know there are many people thinking of me. I know all I need to do is pick up the phone, send an email, reach out. Today the ache makes those seem like impossible tasks. The tears are stuck in my throat.
The phone rang as I finished that sentence. It’s amazing what a few moments of connection with a friend can do. As deep as it is, my sadness is…what’s the right word? tempered? balanced? by my gratitude.
The tears are welling. Please excuse me while I cry.