Good Days/Bad Days

While, as life moves on, so do I.  I don't have the luxury of being stuck in the moment.  Unfortunately sometimes I think I am fooling myself.  There are days that I feel like I am doing great and am on top of the world.  Sometimes, I even feel enlightened as though I have learned something about life so few get a chance to learn.  Those are the good days.  Then, there are the bad days.

It is amazing to me how much the pendulum swings.  I sometimes feel like I am two different people wrapped in one.  On the bad days, there is sadness, anxiety and emptiness.  Sometimes, I feel like I am right back at the beginning, alone in a hospital room with the reality that my baby is dead.  When I went to the hospital that night, it was late and very dark out.  But, the hospital room seems so bright. It was eerily illuminated.  It was almost as if the entire world was pitch black except that one room.  As though, if you were looking down from space, you would see nothing but the shadowy outline of the earth and one bright light coming from that hospital room.  In all my emotional darkness, it is funny that I remember the brightness of the light.  Now that I think about it, it was obviously artificial.  That night, I couldn't help but feel a lack of comfort from the light. It was almost yellow, and lacked the warmth of natural light; Not the physical warmth but the emotional warmth.  The fake light only added to the feeling that this wasn't real and made it seem all the more removed and impossible to be true.

I excepted to be sad and weepiness the first few weeks and months.  But, as my overall mood has lightened, I am finding it harder to deal with the unexpected sadness that hits when I am least expecting it.  The past few days have been full of the unexpected.  Sunday April 3rd was suppose to be her Christening date.  While I had planned to mark the day in some way. However, I actually had come upon that weekend with no conscience thought of the Christening.  It wasn't until I was sitting in church that very morning and they read the name of the baby's that were christened the week prior that it hit me.  "I shouldn't be here," I thought. "I should be at home dressing my daughter in her gown and preparing for the day ahead."  Instead I was sitting there empty handed and crying on my friend's shoulder.    I don't know how I could have forgotten this day.  I quickly recovered and forgive myself for it slipping my mind and tried to make the best of the day.  A trip to the cemetery and a big family Sunday dinner was going to be enough for me to feel good about the slip, but, the sadness of the day stood with me all day.

Then there was having to go to the high risk doctor's office with copies of my blood work and her autopsy results for them to review prior to my upcoming appointment.  The office happens to be in the hospital where we learned we lost Gabriella. The last time I was in that office, I was happily pregnant and expecting in 8 weeks.  Walked into a waiting room of blooming mother's to be, and there I was.  When I spoke to the receptionist, I found myself trying to whisper that I have my records and her autopsy report as not to scared the other women in the room. How would I have felt if I was sitting there with my baby safely inside, and I heard a woman come in with her baby's autopsy results.  I started to tear up and as I walked out and down the hall to the exit the building, I realized, I was here 3 months ago, for the worst days in my life. That was the last time had my baby with me.  Being within those walls, brought a flood of emotions.  A seemingly innocent day can turn ugly quickly some days.

I am angry.  I having been yet, but, I am angry I have to be in this position.  I am sorry for myself, that I have to go through this.  And even still I would not trade place with anyone.  I would not burden anyone else to carry this cross.  I wish there was a magic potion to take it all away and erase my memory.  To have blissfully ignorance of not to know what can go wrong.  This is a roller coaster ride that will never end.  I wish I could get off it.  And even as I make my wish, I feel a guilt about it.  If my wishes were reality, my daughter then would not have existed and I would not have loved her and that is something I could live with.

I am making friends that are like me, friends who understand.  Not to minimize my fantastic friends and family (I know they understand). I need to bond with other women who know my pain first hand.  And I think I am find some of those women.  I wish we could build our friendship on a different foundation.  I hope we can find a support in each other that will make these difficult days more bearable; this is my prayer for now- bearable days.