Early grief is terrible. No words can describe that trauma and despair that drown like a wave. Today is the first day I can even begin to express myself through anything other than tears and poetry. Today I wanted to write about grief as it is. A nightmare that apparently does not end, as it continues to haunt you like a recurring nightmare.
Only 6 short weeks ago (it feels like a few days), I was loving a sweet squirmy baby in my womb.
Coming home without our sweet baby as we expected was horrendous. Surrounded by hospital things, baby gifts and nursery items. Over the next week baby gifts kept arriving due to shipping delays. One of the worst moments at home was when my husband saw a delivery driver drop the crib off at a neighbors house on accident and have to go drag that very heavy crib all the way home. Heavy in many more ways than just physical weight.
We have been unable to move or change anything about his things throughout our home.
I made a baby-weight pillow that I could dress, rock and put in his bassinet. It was a pitiful replacement, but during those first few weeks of utter despair and panic, it was just about the only thing that could calm me down enough to sleep. When crying in bed at night, my husband would go get it from the bassinet and place it in my arms. Empty-arms syndrome is so real and painful. The pressure and ache in my chest when my milk would let down was so awful without a baby to hold. The weight was not as heavy as Wilder, but was close enough to let my imagination take me back to holding him on my chest and snuggling him. I still miss him so much it hurts. I don't think that will ever go away.
Comentários