Wednesday, April 14, 2010

One week

Today was, by far, the hardest day so far. A week ago I knew. I just knew. And now here we are with seven-year-old life slowly creeping back in...school runs (complete with a lady with a little baby standing at the door...making me silently scream inside my head), baseball practice, cub scouts. And I don't want to do any of it.

I want to sit...and cry...and then stare at a blank wall...and then cry some more. Oh, I have spurts of energy where I do a load of laundry or mop the floor or straighten things up...but it all takes so much energy. I still can't go up and down our stairs without feeling winded. The walk across the street from the car to the school just about wore me out.

Then there's the belly. There aren't big enough clothes to sufficiently hide the 19week-lost-pregnancy bulge (and it really is too warm to wear my winter coat). It mocks me...all big and round as if there is still life there (and can we talk about how to stop the phantom kicks?). What a giant cruel joke.

Just the IDEA of going to work next week makes me want to slip into the tub and drown myself.

I'm thinking that tomorrow I might buy some pansies and plant them at the cemetery. I haven't been there in so long (I thought it might be bad luck...HA!). But I'm not sure I can even accomplish that.

And I keep thinking about the blog exchange with the anonymous commenter a couple weeks ago. Why did I do this to myself?!?!?! Hope?!?!?! What the...?!?!?! I'm such a fool.

9 comments:

Kathy McC said...

You're not a fool. (((hugs)))

nocton4 said...

you know what I want to say F*** really loud and lots of times
oh Catherine, if I say I'm sorry again I swear I will go stick my head in the oven but I so am sooo bloody sorry
words, never enough xx

kate said...

can't you stay home a little longer? That seems like such a ridiculously short time. I suspect you need more time to recover, physically speaking, i mean.

And no, not a fool.

Hennifer said...

Hope is never foolish! You are as entitled, if not more so, to have hope!

I have hope that you will find the space to be gentle with yourself and as angry as you want to be with all of it.

You are wrapped tight in my thoughts daily.

Rosepetal said...

You're definitely not a fool. What did you do that was foolish? Nothing. Life has been more than cruel. It doesn't make you a fool. (((hugs)))

msfitzita said...

It's not foolish to have had hope. It's human - and it was incredibly brave of you too. I admire it endlessly. You have no idea.

I too wonder if maybe you could take a little more time off to rest and heal. People (and by that I mean employers and those who have never had to endure any sort of tragedy) underestimate the physical toll that grief takes - the energy that it sucks away from you every moment of every day. Couple that with your physical need to heal and geez - I think you need more time too. I so, so, so hope you can take it.

Thinking of you so much and sending ((((HUGS))))

miraclebaby said...

I am so sorry to hear the news... I hadn't checked on you in a while, and I came back to find this out. I am shocked, saddened, and wish that there was something I could do to take the pain and sadness from you and your family. For what it's worth, you will be in my thoughts and prayers.

There are just no adequate words...

lorem ipsum said...

You did it because you hoped, and hope is the one thing that will never die. It will go dormant, but it'll always come back. It is the toughest and most tender thing ever. I just wish it stuck around longer this time before slipping away.

eve
xo

Bronwyn said...

If it's not too sickly sweet to say, maybe the hope you felt, however briefly, was the little bug's gift to you. (((Big, big hug))) I'm thinking about you all the time and deigning to hope myself that your pain will be lessened soon. Not sure how, but that's the daftness of hope!