I used to look forward to Fridays. Yesterday I was looking forward to today because Jim was finishing up his first week back to work and I was ready to have him home for a couple of days. But then last night, I was reading in bed and I happened to look over at the clock. It was about 12:30 a.m. and my mind wandered to six weeks ago at that same time, when I was in labor with our little girl. And then I was going over every second of that night and the next horrible morning in my mind. I was thinking about how at that time six weeks before we had no idea that we were going to lose her, we just thought I was in labor and that we were going to go home in a couple of days with our sweet girl. I was thinking about how surreal everything seemed then and how excited we were.
After lots of tears and very little sleep, I awoke this morning feeling exhausted both mentally and physically. I visited with a friend and then went for lunch at my old office and I let myself laugh and I got some great hugs and I went home to wait for Jim to come home. But everything today reminded me of our girl, and nothing even happened; no one got to me, no one asked about her – nothing bad happened. I just got upset from seeing little families of three or women that I didn’t even know but I knew were pregnant at the same time as me. And I got upset by the thought of something happening that never occurred. I dreaded going to the convenience store for soda because I remembered talking to the attendant the day before I went into labor when I bought a bottle of wine for Jim for Thanksgiving dinner. I hoped and prayed that the owner of the restaurant where I picked up dinner tonight wouldn’t be there because I acted like I was in a hurry and just said “hello” the other day when I saw him so he wouldn’t ask any questions and I didn’t want to have to explain it tonight. I walked through a nearby store with my earphones in so I could pretend like I was in my own world and people wouldn’t bother me and I tried to ignore everything and every one around me. Nothing even happened, I just felt sad and dreaded the prospect of something happening.
I know it’s not healthy to live from week to week and to think about how old she would be now and where she would be and what she would be doing and how we would probably be hitting our groove about now. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be awake crying every Thursday night and sad every Friday. I don’t want to be counting weeks in 6 months or dread the 27th of every month when the weeks get too high in numbers to count.
Please pray for me or send positive thoughts my way. I thought it would start getting easier by now. I’m okay during the week, I’m fine with almost everything: I can let myself laugh, I can be productive throughout the days and be happy with Jim in the evenings, I can sleep at night. But when Thursday night rolls around everything comes flooding back and I feel like I’m starting from scratch all over again. I know it will never be easy to not have her here, but I’m ready to be able to get through the weekends without reliving that night and morning.