Numb
Numbness has set in. I walk around in a zombified state. I don’t feel anything. I worry that I can’t be there for Ville, emotionally. He’s started acting out. He threw a McDonald’s toy at his one year old cousin and refused to apologize. I took away his electronics and asked him why he was being mean. He couldn’t answer. I asked him if he loved his cousin. He said yes, then he says he loves Liam. I tell him that I love him too, but that missing him doesn’t mean we can be mean to other people. He gets upset later and throws the Liam bear at me. I have to remind myself not to freak out. It’s not his fault and if we can’t figure out how to cope how are we supposed to help him? Everything feels so unreal, I guess that’s the only way I’m making it through each day. Everyone says I’ll be ok, but I can’t even think about the future without being terrified. I just have to focus on each day as they come because otherwise I won’t make it through that day. It feels like I’m watching someone else go through this. I can’t have lost my son, these things only happen in movies. These things don’t happen in real life. I’ll wake up soon and reach down and he’ll be there, safe in my tummy, kicking me good morning. I touched my stomach for the first time this morning. It reminded me of when I first started showing and he would be snuggled up on one side every morning. I pushed against my stomach, searching for the child that was no longer there, hoping against hope that I had woken up from this nightmare. I’m lost. I held my nephew today, and for a moment, my arms didn’t ache so badly. My heart may not ever heal, but my arms need a baby to hold. We’ve waited so long. I want to scream about how unfair life is. The girl who was due a week before me when I miscarried is pregnant again. Her daughter is fine. This baby probably will be too. She’s not a very good parent. She’s on drugs and has left her daughter in the bathroom in my store so she could steal stuff. I hate her. I’m angry that people like that have beautiful healthy children and I keep losing mine. I hate it when people tell me I should be grateful I have Ville. I am grateful. I hate it more when they imply that I should be happy that I was ever able to get pregnant at all. I am, but that just makes me feel worse. It makes me angry when they tell me I’m still young. That’s the point, nobody should bury their child at all, much less at 24. We should be looking forward to living our life with two little boys and watching them grow up, not holding on to 8 months worth of memories and hoping they never fade. Part of me wishes I had known that something was wrong, but I know that would have only tainted the happiest memories we have. I’m not at peace with the fact that we didn’t know something was wrong, but maybe one day I will be. I was granted 8 of the happiest months of my life. Feeling my son every day and talking to him helped me through my mom’s death. I refuse to believe that was his purpose here. Why give me such a precious gift to help me through that, when losing him would be a thousand times harder to deal with? I don’t understand why he was given to us for such a short amount of time, but I wouldn’t ever go back and change that time. I wish every day that he was here, but I would never wish that we had never been blessed with his presence. I still hope and pray that one day I’m granted another child or two. We both agree on that, we just can’t agree on when. I have to leave that up to him. I’ll always be ready, yet never be ready. I desperately want another baby one day. I know he/she won’t replace Liam, none of our children ever will, but the ache and yearning is still there. More than anything, I want my baby boy.
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I teach children that parents are NOT worthy of them at all. Life is very unfair. I am praying for you.
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