There are so many random thoughts swirling around in my head these days that I realized I haven’t been blogging because I don’t even know where to start. Some days I think I might be doing a little bit better. I’m certainly more functional in some ways – better able to focus, better able to get things done. Until the days I’m not, which catch me by surprise, take my breath away, out of no where, and I realize how not ok I really am. How uninspired I am by everything in my life right now. And I realize that I’m so used to my general state of melancholy that the only emotions I do take notice of are when I feel worse. And then I blog about those…so everyone who reads assumes I’m just gloom, doom and despair all the time. But then again maybe that’s not so far from the truth.
I’ve been thinking a lot about attachments. To dates, to plans, to things. It was a dear friend who pointed out that Ezra doesn’t get a 6 month anniversary this month – there‘s no 29th (death day) or 30th (birth day) in February. I can’t decide if I am sad or relieved. Those days are so hard, marking the time since Ezra was still safe within my belly. Half a year, and Ezra feels so far away now. Sure there are days or moments when he feels so close, so connected. And yet time marches on. I said to David the other day that I am dreading reaching the moment at which he’s been gone for longer than he lived.
Ezra is teaching me about letting go of attachments. And I’m not a very good student. I kick and scream, cry and remonstrate. And yet gently he points me in this direction. Ezra and I had some long talks (in my head) about making way for the spirit of a new baby to join us. And I thought we had reached an understanding. I thought I would be pregnant again by now, with what I’m still convinced will be his little sister. But I need to let go of that attachment. I’m practicing being at peace with the intent, while not beating myself up about not reaching the end goal. I have to keep reminding myself that if Ezra has taught me anything, its that plans are just that….they are what you plan to do, nothing is guaranteed. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to make plans and see them to fruition. And I’ve said before, never has a plan I made fallen so flat on its face. Sometimes the Universe has other ideas.
Which brings me to the topic of anticipation, which Monique and I were discussing recently. All of life seems on hold right now…nothing interests me as much as being a mom right now, and its making me downright cynical. Some unsuspecting soul who hadn’t heard the news of Ezra’s passing came up to me a couple weeks ago and asked ‘how’s motherhood treating you?’ ‘Not as well as I had hoped’ I deadpanned, not skipping a beat, and then I explained. Of course she fled as quickly as possible. Everything just feels stagnant. I’m trying to find little things in which I can take pleasure that aren’t work, grief or baby-making related…and sometimes I am successful. But I’m just having a hard time with the idea that this is my life right now.
And then there’s the issue of all the many pregnant women around me. To my pregnant friends, I do not hate you - I am happy for you, just sad for me…but I’d be lying if I didn’t also admit I’m jealous of you and terrified for you. Of course I hope and pray that all of these babies are born healthy and alive. But so many people seem to take this outcome for granted. They do what I did when I was pregnant, which is block out the possibility that things could go terribly awry, distancing themselves from my horror. It was only a couple months after Ezra was gone that I realized that I knew babylost mamas and papas…and had conveniently “forgot” this information while I carried Ezra. (Of course I didn’t realize quite how many babylost parents I knew…as the cards, emails and calls poured in after he was gone.) When I hear people talk about their unborn babies as if their arrival is a foregone conclusion, I cringe…alarm bells go off in my head. How can you know ME and assume that everything will be ok? I had the perfectly healthy pregnancy until the moment it was not, and Ezra was suddenly gone. And somehow that distance and denial feels like criticism…even though I know it’s not intended that way.
I guess there’s no real point to this post, no moral to the story, other than a little window into the whirl-a-gig that is my mind these days.
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