I have had a bit of a setback this week. It all began on Monday. The day started off well but midway through, something just clicked for me. She's really gone. Nothing can bring her back. That 7 weeks I had with her was it. Those are all the memories I will ever have of her for my entire life. I have like 10 pictures if her and one video, in which she's being kept alive by machines. That was her life. How fucking depressing is that?
I basically spent the rest of the day sobbing in bed. It was not pretty. I should have taken a picture of my swollen red face. I think that was the hardest cry I've ever had in my entire life. I even went as far as spending an hour sitting in her room, wrapped in her blanket and hugging her princess bear while sitting on her rocker - all while sobbing. This was the first time I've spent any sort of significant time in her room. I know eventually, I am going to have to do something with it but I really don't want to. Sometimes I feel that room is the only tangible thing I have left. Other times, I wish we could just move so I don't have to look at that depressing door that remains closed any more. It should be a room full of joy, with toys and a laughing, crawling (possibly toddling if she was anything like her big brother who was walking at 10 months) baby girl. Instead, it's filled with brand new baby gear that remains unused, bags of hospital remnants, welcome home gifts that still remain unopened in their boxes and a huge stack of sympathy cards.
Speaking of sympathy cards, I was buying one yesterday for a family member who passed away and I noticed that they have sympathy cards for losing husbands, wives, parents, even pets but did I find I single one for a parent who has lost a child? Nope. Of course not because that is not supposed to happen. It's unnatural so why bother making a greeting card recognizing this loss? Even hallmark makes me feel like a fucking pariah these days.
And that's enough of a rant for today. I already feel much better than I did on Monday. I also recognize that this is just how grief works. It comes and it goes. In my bereaved parents group, our group leader described it as a wave. It comes in , it takes over and it recedes. I think when you have lost a child, it's more of a tsunami but the metaphor still works. It also hopefully means that next week will be a better week.