I've been thinking about his a lot over the past several days. I'm wondering how I really am doing. I always say "great" or "pretty good" or "fine", but I never say "Pretty terrible, actually, but thanks for asking."
I wonder, how is a mother of a dead baby supposed to act? I wake up every morning, get out of bed, go to the gym. I eat a healthy breakfast with my husband. I go about my day like I think a normal person should, and go to work. Blah, blah, blah. My hair hasn't turned stark white from the grief, I haven't gone mad. But I've realized that I'm just numb. I'm going through my day like a robot--wake up, gym, work, trash tv, bed, wake up, gym, work, trash tv, bed, do it again.
I can't drive in my car without talking on my cell phone--I think too much if I'm alone, and then I cry all the way to work. I can't go to church without crying. I used to really enjoy Redbook--I've found that Cosmo has no baby stories, so that's my new favorite. I don't watch the morning news anymore--they sneak in stories about TomKat spawn--I watch Lifetime and TV Land, not much baby talk on the Golden Girls or Green Acres. Every minute and every hour of the day is consumed with thoughts of my son. I'm obsessed with getting pregnant again, even though I know that it's going to be the longest, most stressful nine months of my life.
My girlfriends call and I don't return their calls. I'm so damn lonely, yet I refuse to talk to anyone. Or maybe it's just giving the effort to pick up the phone and having the energy for a conversation that I'm incapable of. I go back and forth thinking "they love me, that's why they're giving me space" and "they don't even know what to say to me, I'm too depressing, they don't want my bad freaking luck to rub off on them".
I think about how exciting it is that we are buying a new house and I am so thankful that we were able to do this, to make a fresh start. I've been thinking a lot about the room that I plan to make a nursery. I think about paint colors, curtains. After Nate died, and we had to take down his crib and pack up his clothes, I swore that none of that stuff would see the light of day until I had a live baby in my arms. It was just too painful to have to put those things away. I thought about putting the new nursery together entirely right away, and this thought made me happy. Now I'm thinking--is this nursery for the new baby that hasn't even been conceived yet? Or is it for Nate? I really think that I was planning this nursery for my dead son. That is a crazy lady thing to do! He is not coming home. There hasn't been a mix-up with paperwork, he's not at his grandma's for the weekend, he's not coming home.
When am I going to feel whole again? I just feel so hollow, I don't even know myself anymore. What am I supposed to be learning from this? WHY ME??!! WHY MY HUSBAND? WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ANYONE?!! I mourn so much for this little person, who he might have been. He never opened his eyes, he never cried. I had so many dreams for this little guy. Hope and hope lost.
I guess that I'm scared to death that my brain hasn't even let me have it yet. That it's been in self-preservation mode, and that soon it was going to dawn on me that my baby is gone forever, and I'm going to lose my fucking mind. That's what scares me.