Why is everything so dang hard?
Today is my first day without Matt 24/7. I am a basket case. I went to my postpartum doctor's appointment by myself today. I made sure it was at 8 a.m., right when they opened so I'd have less chance of seeing preggos. Wrong. As I was leaving they were springing out at me from every corner. It was like that video game where you have to shoot those ducks that pop up out of the grass. Oy vey. Terrible. I practically ran to my car, slammed the doors and melted into the seats. Terrible. I was finally able to pull myself together long enough to drive home....where I collapsed into the sofa.
This is harder than it felt with Rowan. Yet I feel like I love them the same, but sometimes I feel awful for thinking I might love Levi more than Rowan... What kind of mother does that make me? I think it's just because for two out of the last three weeks, Levi and I spent EVERY second together, I would talk and sing and he would flutter around just being there...inside me...living. Now, it's been one week since I pushed him out into this cold world and he went away. So far away, to a place where I can never see him...never call out to him...not for a while anyway. Matt says it will seem like a short time to the boys (Rowan & Levi), but to me, it already feels like eternity.
I hate the emptiness I feel within myself. My body, served a great purpose, a life-giving purpose...and now it is just an empty shell. My heart was beating, sending blood and life to another, now just beats for me...
The results from the autopsy of my placenta showed nothing. NOTHING. Seriously, you mean my baby just died for no reason. No, not what they meant. My cervix is incompetent. Duh. That's what I told them after Rowan. Next time, the doctor says.... NEXT TIME - I want to scream. We are not guaranteed a 'next time...' I'm not ready to think about a 'next time.' I want this time. I want it all back.
Prescription for Ambien to help me sleep, prescription for Lexapro to help me function better in society. A list of counselors to help me deal with my feelings of loss. No thanks. I feel at one with my sadness, and I think I need to feel it rather than suppress it - for now. Feeling the heartache keeps me in touch with Levi somehow. Makes his premature departure feel close, and not like it's slipping away...like he's close and not so far.
Yesterday at lady at Wal-Mart asked how I was doing. If you have ever read my blog you know how much I detest that question. And, yesterday was no different. I just stared at her. How could she not know. My son died, less than a week ago...I'm doing just terribly. I want to scream at the world, how can they/it go on being 'normal'? How is it that the world doesn't stop to mourn for my Levi? What am I supposed to do now?
Later in the afternoon I get a phone call, I should just know not to answer my phone these days... yeah it was a nurse from SHH wanting to know if we were still coming to the prepared childbirth class (it was supposed to start tonight). I just started bawling, barely got out that my son passed away and hung up on her. Oh dear.