Waking up is hard to do. Every morning, my very first thought is something about Samuel. I miss him so very much! I wake up, remember he is gone, miss him, feel sad for myself and then wonder "what is the point of getting up?". Sometimes, I decide to just keep on sleeping. I don't have to hurt for him while I sleep. Other times, I get up and decide to try to get somethings done. More often than not, I do keep moving forward, just with a heavy heart. He should be here with me.
Today is the two-month anniversary of seeing his precious little face and looking into his beautiful eyes. Today is the anniversary of the moment I got to see my special little guy for the first time and realize just how much love a person can have for another. These are the good things about this anniversary.
Today is also the day I remember having only a few moments with my son. Today is the day I remember not being able to hold him close and kiss him. Today is the day I remember the moment I realized God didn't answer my prayers for healing. Today is the day I remember losing all the joy in my life. Today is a reminder of what I am missing. I should have a two-month old. Instead I have nothing but a huge hole in my heart and a lot of people trying to help me "get over it".
I realize the irony of what I'm about to say, considering this is a public blog, but I'm a very private person (in person). When I'm around other people, I have a hard time showing lots of strong emotions. (It's probably something I learned from my mother's side of the family - you keep things inside). I feel vulnerable when someone knows too much about my thoughts or emotions. When I'm around people, I don't cry. I don't show them how sad I feel. I try to put on a brave face to show that I'm moving forward and that I'm okay. I am a logical person. I can have "logic" conversations about Samuel's life. Then, I get in my car, or somewhere else "safe", and I cry. Then it's ok to feel deeply. I hope people never think I'm over him just because I don't cry in public. I hope they never think I don't love him so very much just because I can put on a brave face. I may try to hide it, and I may have moments of being "okay" but inside, where it doesn't show, my heart is missing a piece. And it hurts.
A few weeks back, some people were talking "postpartum depression" about me. The social worker I met with told me she thought I might be dealing with it, but would watch me before making a diagnosis. One week later, at my next appointment, she told me she was no longer worried, I seemed to be doing alright, and said "congratulations" to me for moving on. What a joke. I never had postpartum depression. I had "massive amounts of sadness due to my little baby dying". Who, in my situation, wouldn't? It irritates me that I can't just be a mess without someone trying to diagnose me. I would HOPE I'd be a mess. It means I really did love him deeply.
Thankfully, I have a good group of dear friends who help me move forward while also allowing me to be a mess. I have friends who make me meals and let me talk. Friends who ask me questions and let me answer. I'm so thankful for people who have shown me they care!
I just got back from a quick trip to Iowa to see my cousin, Sara. If you need a place to go where you get taken care of, her house is the place! She made me amazing food, let me take long baths in her huge tub and even pre-recorded some of my favorite shows on her DVR just for me. Her "mothering" is just what I needed. (She and her son, Lane, even put fresh flowers and some chocolates in my room to welcome me. Then they sent me home with some delicious homemade jam.)
Today is a day for remembering and missing my little Samuel. I wish I could have him with me instead.