Tuesday, June 10, 2008

double time to nowhere

Seventeen weeks and five days ago I found out that my seventeen week five day old baby girl was dead. Shannon has now been gone for as long as she was even here. The amount of time that I have been so deeply grieving the loss of my child now exceeds the amount of time she existed as a living being. That blows.

And every day, I wonder, will I ever be happy again? Not sometimes happy, which I am most of the time, not truly happy, which I am not sure I ever was, but just happy? Some mundane, livable version of happy? Every day, I am asked to do the most mundane of things - wake up, shower, go to work, take care of my kid, make sure I look before crossing the street. Some days I don't want to do some or all of these basic things, but I do them. Then, on some days, more is expected. I am expected to host 40 people in my house for a birthday party. I am expected to donate my time. I am expected to speak to people who don't know what to say to me because my daughter died. And sometimes I am expected to be happy for other people who are pregnant. And just like remembering to cross the street, I am. Kinda sorta.

But mostly all I am is sad for me. Sad. sad. sad. I feel terrible that I am so sad, but that is just the way it is. I don't want to be sad. And, in much the same way, I feel terrible that I am not able to be sorta mostly truly happy for others who are closer to getting their baby than I am. I just can't. I can't. If I had some ability to figure out how to unshatter my heart, I would. But there are so many pieces missing right now. I am not sure how I am supposed to get up every day and do all the other things that are expected of me and not be heart-numbingly sad. I hate pity from others, but not as much as I hate pity from myself. I hate feeling like I have to act like everything is ok every day, when every day, I just die a little inside because I am one day further away from my little girl and the life that we were supposed to have. And that really blows.

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