And I hestitate to use the word “heal” because I don’t think you can heal from losing a baby, not from miscarriage or from stillbirth or any other go-awful way. Maybe “grieve” is a better word. Anyhow.
I often have people remark on how “strong” I am, how well I seem to be doing in spite of all the horror that has befallen us. I’m not sure I really deserve any admiration. Simply because I try very hard every day to not think about the horror that has befallen us. It’s not that I don’t know what happened or don’t accept that it happened to us. But I don’t really *think* about it.
Every now and then, the thoughts will creep in, like when I see a baby who is the age Jackson would be or I see a pregnant woman pushing a stroller or anything along those lines. The thoughts will touch along my subconsciousness before I push them away. Because I don’t want to get into that; I don’t have time, I don’t want to cry in public, I don’t want to make anyone upset… you get the idea. It does make me wonder if all this grief will be waiting for me, catch up with me one day when I least expect it, when I’m least capable with dealing with it.
In the meantime, I just shove the feelings and thoughts back. Because I’m a procrastinator at heart and I can’t bear the full weight of what I’ve lost.
{ 1 comment }
Amanda (10 comments.) 09.16.05 at 7:10 pm
I wonder the same thing. Will all of this finally hit me full force one day down the road? It’s like I think I’m dealing with it all pretty well, but what if I’m not? It’s kind of scary to think about what will happen when I finally stop long enough for it to all really and truly sink in.
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