To this very day I still walk into baby stores admiring all the cute things, imagining what I could buy.
I thought the parents at the counter would look at me weird, but then I told myself I was walking in to check out some props for my photography so my entrance would be ok. I was looking to see what blue or pink item I could use on someone else's kid. I tell myself that every time " You're here for props, nothing more".
I say that because I don't have any other reason to be in there. After all I don't have a baby. I think when I do that I allow myself to go back to when I could go in there without making an excuse, because I did belong and I was shopping for my baby not someone else's. I think it's my little indulgence, my moment that I get to myself to remember. It's days like today and stores with cute little things in it that make me miss my kid so much.
It makes me think of what I don't have any more, what I'm missing out on. And then it really pisses me off. And again the question of "Why the fuck did this have to happen to us?" pops up. Fifteen months later I still have moments where I stop and think "this isn't happening" I'm still in disbelief. How could I go from such happiness, excitement and wonder to sadness, anger and a complete feeling of loss and confusion? How am I still living with this broken feeling each and every day of my life? I just don't get it.
There are days when I think I'm ok and I'm living my life without my son as best I know how. I think the pain is getting less and the happiness is coming back. But the reality is those days are my crazy days, my off in wonderland days where I skip around in happiness and purple clouds. Real days, days of truth are my days when I fight myself, my husband, I sit and marvel at other peoples lives on the computer, and wonder where my life is going to be, I yearn deeper than the ocean to be pregnant and glowing and happy. My heart sinks low on these days, my mind admits I'm depressed, my heart hearts, and my soul just wants to give up and go to sleep. To be honest I'm living in crazy land most of the time now. I wonder when I'll stop pretending and just admit it?
I'm not sure how we are surviving this now, never mind for the rest of our lives. The loss of a child changes you. It takes you on the inside and turns you upside down. It changes your mind, heart and soul and although you will sure try you will never be the same person you were before your baby died. You'll be a shell, one that looks like you, but not a reflection you'll recognize. Life is fucked.
I miss my son.
