I can't sleep and I can't stand to just lay there in the darkness with my thoughts consuming me. I thought maybe tonight I'd sleep. I don't feel like taking something to help me get to sleep. I'm sick of that. We went for almost a 2 1/2 hour walk today, so why can't I sleep? I did doze on and off from about 8pm to 10:30pm when I had a killer headache. But now here I am, wide awake, so many thoughts racing through my mind. These thoughts include a variety of things and they just go back and forth in my head. This post might not make much sense or might be rambling, but I guess I will attempt to get these thoughts out of my head.
I haven't started working on my research yet. I told myself this week I need to go to campus every day and do a little bit. It's so scary though. I don't know how I'm going to get through it. I really do think that if I had a more regular job I could handle working. If I had a set job to do with set hours for the day and set goals to accomplish, I could do it. Research though, research takes so much focus and self determination which can be difficult to muster on a good day. Try doing research with your dead baby on your mind...yeah it's beyond intimidating. I don't even want this PhD anymore. It seems so pointless. But I don't know what I would do instead. I just don't now.
I wish my family and friends would call/text me more. I feel forgotten. I feel alone. I know the holiday season is just wrapping up and people are busy, but it's been such a rough last couple of weeks. If you are reading this and you have called/text/emailed/facebooked me I do really appreciate it. Every single time it means more than you think. Even when I don't respond. And if me not responding is deterring you from messaging me, please don't take it personally. Some days I just can't. Some days I don't even have the energy for that. But I read or listen to your message and know you are there. We need you, we really need the support. Please don't always wait for me to reach out. It's so difficult and scary to do. I think I'm getting better at reaching out when I really need to. But sometimes I don't because I'm worried about "being a burden" or "ruining someone's day." In those times it is much easier to accept someone reaching out to me. To accept offers for help instead of asking. It's so much easier to accept an offer for a meal than to ask for one. Or for someone to say they want to come over instead of feeling like I'm dragging them into my hell. And saying "call if you need anything" while I know it's sincere, it's not as helpful as you think. What does "anything" really mean? And half the time we don't know what we need. If you are looking to help I'll tell you this, we get take out a lot.
We need help. We need support. We need you. I'm sorry if anyone is offended or thinks I'm being whiny or anything like that. While I don't want to offend anyone or make them upset, I don't really care. My son is dead, the worry of offending someone with my grieving process is pretty low on my list. Sorry.
Thoughts of my nephew keep entering my mind. And it hurts. I hate that it hurts. I hate that it hurts when I think of my sister and my nephew. I am truly happy for her that she has such a beautiful healthy son, I really am. And she is such a good mom. But that doesn't stop it from hurting, from the "why can't I have that?" going on in my head, from preventing the "it's not fair!" thoughts. I love my sister. I talked to her about some of this a while ago now. Her response, "No it isn't fair." Thank you sister. Thank you for understanding as much as you are capable of and for acknowledging you can't fully understand. I miss you.
Today on our walk we saw lots of families, one with a tiny baby. The mom was carrying the baby in a sling, something called "babywearing." We were going to do that. We were going to wear Marcellus in slings and wraps. We weren't planning on using a stroller very much because we liked the idea of wearing him. That was hard to see that happy family, like a jab to the heart. The baby also had the same color hair as Marcellus did. At the beginning his hair was dark, really dark. But even in 12 days it really started to lighten. It became this beautiful light brown color and was so very soft. I just wanted to go up and touch that baby, touch that baby's hair. I wonder what the mom would have done if some crazy lady just came up to her crying and trying to touch her baby's hair. Again, the "why can't I have that" and the "it's not fair" thoughts start circling. Why do other people get something that we wanted so bad, that we worked so hard for? Now I by no means wish this upon anyone, but why can't we have that too?
I feel like I'm going absolutely crazy. I miss Marcellus. I miss him! I miss him! I miss him! I can't say that enough. Every time I really think about the fact that he's dead, my head feels like it's going to explode. I'll be going about something and then all of a sudden "My son is dead!" pops into my head without a conscious effort. Well there goes finishing whatever I was doing. I honestly don't think I've completely wrapped my mind around this yet. Around the fact that my son was born and died while his due date is still 2 weeks away. Everything happened so fast and unexpectedly with both his birth and his death. And I don't know why. I don't know why he was born so early and I don't know why he was taken so early. All I know is that I love and miss him more than anything, more than I can even begin to tell you.
With the holidays there hasn't been any support group meetings, we didn't have any counseling appointments. Everyone's busy and not checking in on us as much as before. Most of our friends have been out of town visiting family and having a joyous holiday season. This week friends will return, we have appointments and support group meetings. Hopefully we will find some comfort and/or release in that. And now, it's the new year. What does that even mean? Nothing's magically different because our calendars read 2012 instead of 2011. The best and worse moments of my life happened in 2011. Finding out I was pregnant with Marcellus, all the prenatal appointments and ultrasounds. Of course his birth and our time with him in the NICU are THE best moments of our lives. Then there's his death and his funeral - the worst. A new year just means time is move further away from when my squirmy wormy was here. That we have to learn how to deal with more firsts that our baby should be here for, Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, our birthdays, his birthday. And that we have to learn how to deal with anniversaries, of when I found out I was pregnant, first time we heard his heartbeat, ultrasounds, his birthday, his death, his funeral.
I don't feel any closer to being able to get to sleep, but at least I was able to get some of those thoughts out of my head.
Marcellus, Momma can still remember how your soft fuzzy hair felt on my fingers. You had such beautiful hair. I wish I could touch your hair again. I would hold you close up to my face and nuzzle in your hair, feel the softness of it and smell you. Baby I miss you so much, so very very much. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you! And I love you! xoxox