Everyday is a roller coaster. I wake up, tell myself that it will be a good day, and then I put my feet on the ground. Everyday is the day that I'm not pregnant anymore. Everyday is a day closer to 30 and closer to Levi's due date, closer to the one year anniversary of Rowan's death....everyday....
Sometimes I forget to breath. The ache is a heaviness that sits on my chest, pressing down...pressing, deep down.
I miss the flutters, and the ultrasounds, and the vitamins, and the sweet way Matt rubbed my tummy and I miss my baby. I miss my son. I hate it. HATE it. I hate the sadness that sweeps over me when I'm at the grocery store, and the way a song can make me cry before I even register the words. When I see a pregnant woman I cannot turn my gaze fast enough. The pain is an ocean.
Letters from insurance companies and bills from hospitals, doctors, anesthesiologists fill our mail box. A bill came today it read 'vaginal delivery' $xxxx.00. I threw it out. Really. I delivered my son in the bathroom at the hospital, by myself. There was no doctor there, no nurse ...nurses came after Levi was out, and the doctor maybe 30 minutes later. Seriously. A bill for a baby that I'll never hold again. I could have puked.
Anyway, I'm just sad. Brokenhearted. Anguished. Did you know anguish means 'agony, torment, torture'. That's probably exactly how I feel today.