I didn't sleep again last night. I woke up exhausted and knew I still needed to get my son ready for school. He didn't want to go and I am always tempted to let him just stay home with me...but I think the normalcy is good for him and preparing him for when I go back to work.
I dropped him off and went and got caffeine. It is one of those days. I was driving down the road when I was overcome by a wave of anger. This happens sometimes. I get moments of anger, it just washes over me. I can't do anything about it and I am consumed by it. I feel filled with it and almost hot and overwhelmed. I feel like screaming or cussing and then the anger mutates into total and utter despair and I feel like I am crashing with the wave, and the washing over instead, washes me away. I feel sunken and adrift and empty. Like the sadness will corrode my soul. I feel it eating away at the edges of my heart and the tears fill my eyes.
I forgot to take my anti-depressant yesterday. I think to myself, I must sleep more, go home and take your meds, clean up, take a shower, do something...So I come home and take my meds but instead of doing anything productive, I get on the computer to sink into blog land. This place simultaneously buoys me and scares me, that there are so many babies dying all the time. I need this space, I need to feel connected and that I am not alone. I have known these baby loss mamas for such a short period of time but feel so much love for you all. I hate that I am here. I don't want to be here. I HATE THAT I HAVE TO BE HERE. I want my daughter, I want to be filling my soul with the soft sweet smell of baby. The smell of her head and her full sweet cheeks, stroking her legs and feeling her grip my finger in her tiny hand. I want to see her smile and coo as she nurses and revel in her aliveness and instead, OH GOD instead I sit here sobbing, typing about my wishes and my loss and my missing. I can hardly stand the anguish sometimes. I am so bitter about my loss and seeing all the alive healthy babies being loved by their mothers. This was NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!
I went to yoga last night. I felt good. I didn't push myself. I tried to stay comfortable. I knew I would be sore. I feel so weak. It was a really positive experience for me. A time to focus on my body, to try and get to a space where I can just be accepting, even just for moments...or to not think of anything except the movement or the stretch, or the breathing. The release whether physical or emotional, it was a nice reminder to try and let go of some of that...yuckiness I hold onto. At the end, while relaxing, the music I swear was sucking at my heart and the emotional release, well I just cried and cried. It felt good, I just let the tears stream down my face. Maybe I should go once a week. Maybe it would be good for me.
All these emotions: it feels so out of control...it is out of control, but I have no energy to be anything but authentic. I just can't fake it. I allow myself the space to be what I am, in the moment. It makes me feel really manic sometimes, the emotional roller coaster of grief. Trying, I am trying. It is the best I can do right now.