Before I begin I want to apologize for the erratic nature of yesterday's post. I was all over the place. That's how my emotions were at that time (and sometimes still are) but I didn't mean for my writing to get that way too. I wish that I had started writing right away to better remember exact details. The hospital is still pretty vivid in my mind, but those first several days after are all kind of a blur and feel like one long day. It all meshes together in my mind. I'm sure it's because the grief was at the forefront of everything for me so details were blurred. I'm going to lump several days together from now on since it all felt like it was one day anyway. I'm not sure I'll blog about every day once we get through this first weekend. I'll probably just share specific details or emotions from the rest of that time up until the present.
Saturday was an especially rough day for me. I woke up and again had to remember that all of this was real. Today wasn't the day it became a part of my reality. I again woke up in the same position I fell asleep in. I was sad from the moment I got out of bed. It helped to have my friend and her son with us, but the ache I felt inside was closer to the surface.
We spent a lot of the day talking and playing with my nephew (or watching him play with the dogs). At one point in the afternoon Adam went out to run some errands and my friend took her son for a walk (I just wasn't in the mood to go). I was alone for the first time (even though it was no more than an hour or so). I'd been thinking a lot about our daughter's keepsake box, tucked away in the closet. I decided that since I was alone I was going to look through it. I still had no idea what was really in it.
I opened the closet door and pulled down the small white bear with a green bow they had given us as well as the white material covered box. The top is flaps that close with a ribbon. I untied the ribbon and saw the white blanket she'd been wrapped in on top. I looked at the flaps (now open) and saw they had inserted a card with her tiny footprints into one of the windows of one of the flaps. They were so small. I lifted the blanket out of the box and saw a picture of those tiny feet that made the footprints with Adam's second toe. I lost it. I knew this was going to be hard, but I was truly unprepared for how hard. I lifted the pictures out and looked at them. Behind the picture of her feet was a picture of me holding her in bed, looking down at her with Adam standing next to us also looking down at her. You can see the love and sorrow in our faces. The next picture was of her face next to the bear we were given. Her head was smaller than the bear's. Her tiny hands were next. I flashed to being in the hospital and holding her tiny left hand with my right thumb and index finger. Then there was a full length picture of her on a blanket. Her tiny dress and bonnet could be seen a lot better because she wasn't wrapped up.
I sat on the bed with the pictures in my hands and cried. I couldn't bring myself to look at what else was in the box at this point. That would have to happen another day. I put everything up and went back out to the couch. I cried and bit more and then pulled myself together. A few minutes later Adam came home. He walked in the door and said hi. When he looked at me he could tell I was upset and he put down what he was carrying, sat next to me on the couch and wrapped his arm around me. I started crying again and tried to tell him about looking at the pictures. He just held me while I got the rest of it out.
The rest of the day was better. My friend and her son came back and we ate dinner not long after. After my nephew was asleep we popped one of the Harry Potter movies in, ate some ice cream and enjoyed zoning out with the movie and talking when we both needed to. When my friend went to bed, I went down to the basement to be with Adam and watched the movie he had started. We cuddled on the couch and again enjoyed zoning out, but talked when we needed to. Talking to him I felt less like a crazy person.
In all honesty Sunday is kind of a blur. It was much like Saturday except I felt a little better. It still wasn't the day that I woke up and our daughter's death was a part of my reality, but it was a little better. Another of my friends came over for a bit that afternoon/evening. I appreciated that my friends weren't going to let my grief swallow me if they could help it. After the miscarriage last fall I did retreat into myself for a while and shut most everyone out. I didn't want to do that this time and I was making an effort not to, but I know if I hadn't been surrounded by my amazing friends and family who were actively trying to make sure that didn't happen again, I would have. I know there is a fine line between having distractions to help you focus on something else for a bit versus using them to not deal with your grief. I think I found a balance. I had people around, but I also made sure I had alone time and time with just Adam. I know if I hadn't had people in my house that first week I wouldn't have gotten out of bed.
That night as I went to bed I thought about the new week. Adam would be going back to work, but I wouldn't be alone while he was at work yet. He wasn't ready for that (he would worry about me) and I wasn't ready for that. My friend and her son were leaving, but my mom was coming back. Some more family would be coming by to visit. I had a doctor's appointment at the end of the week. There would be enough good things and distractions to ensure I got out of bed, but also enough down and alone time for me to continue to grieve as I needed to. One day at a time.
You are amazing and strong.
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