It’s a dreary day in Griefland. All week the storm has been building, knowing that Sunday was coming. The onslaught of radio and television ads fueling the fury. Yesterday the winds were at a fever pitch and only by staying busy did I hold off the torrent.
Due to the change in seasons my emotions are already frayed. Add to that, the vision I had for this Mother’s Day with my 7-month-old and the expectations of others in my current life and KA-BLAMO.
Today I hid, unwilling to confront all the whole families out there. I spent the day alternating between crying and distracting myself. It was very reminiscent of the early days after A was born. It’s a tried and true method to surviving the day.
After days of brooding and feeling blue, I find myself again frustrated that my pre-stillbirth tactics no longer help ease the pain and discomfort. It does not matter how many hours I sleep, it does not matter how much ice cream I eat or drinks I have, it does not matter how long I soak in the tub. I still feel awful. Awful and helpless to remediate it. You’d think I’ve learned this lesson by now. But apparently my psyche is too stubborn to accept this lack of control over its own emotions and its own life.
So I’ll retreat to my current, post-stillbirth regime of breakdowns and avoidance.
God how splendid today was supposed to be.