Even here, it seems akward to talk about my grief. I can't help but feel the pressure of "you should be happy now!" since baby girl A is here. I imagine mom's new to this club reading and not understanding, because their grief is so fresh, so horribly painful, that they don't really want to hear how someone like me feels now. I imagine them thinking things like, "But at least you have A, and you know you can have a living child". I know that I thought similiar things when I was new to my grief.
I am happy. I enjoy baby girl A more than words can describe. The grief is never far away though, and sometimes the whisper grows louder and I can feel incredibly sad. This is a somewhat confusing time for me. I don't know what to do with my feelings anymore. Where do I put them, how do I express them? As odd as this will sound, I almost wish I had spent more time before A just wallowing in my grief. I did to an extent, but I realize now that just a few short months after M died, I started working on *being normal* again. I tried so hard to function that looking back, I didn't get to finish the *crazy* part of grief. I was, in so many ways, *holding it together*. Then, when I became pregnant with A, I was so very focused on her, on hoping she would live.
I don't know what to do with my M feelings. I find myself wanting to speak of him, add him into the conversation, the picture, the family gathering....but how?? I write things about A, things about her growth, her milestones, and I want to somehow put M in there, marking his place in the family line. But how? How do you speak of someone who isn't growing, who isn't doing new things to talk about, and who was here barely a millisecond of time? I know, that in October, at the walk to remember, and on his birthday, I will at least get to do something with my feelings. I just wish I could figure out what to do the rest of the year. I do know I need to work on his baby book, so there is that. It just seems that everything I think of is so lonely. I'm the only one still living in M world. And the truth is, it doesn't matter what I do, it doesn't fill the hole. When I was new to my grief, every little thing I did for M, or to remember M felt good, and gave me a fleeting sense of peace. I'm not sure I get that anymore, I just feel hopeless that those things are it, that my mothering him has been reduced to gestures.
I miss him. I wish I had ALL my children here with me, where they belong.