Carrying On

I haven’t been able to write much the past week. I haven’t really done anything at all. I was so wrapped up in starting new projects, keeping distracted, and trying to basically not deal, and it didn’t really work. I just got burnt out and now all I’ve done for the past week is sit and stare at my phone, played with Snapchat, and only did the things I wanted to.

I am going to see a therapist for the first time this week. I went to my midwife and touched base with her, told her what happened, and asked for her suggestion on who to go talk to. She gave me a great referral to a therapist that deals exactly with these sort of things and I’m optimistic about it. I’ve read a few parts of a few books that we’ve either been sent or bought, and it’s all so non-concrete. Everything is so variable. The resounding advice is that it never really gets any less painful, but you do learn how to enjoy and go on with your life.

It isn’t any less painful. If anything it’s more. It seems so illogical to still be realizing that Milo is never coming back. That everything we had will just never be like that again. It’s hard to start to see the rest of our life move on without him. In some ways it’s like the past two years of our lives have just been erased suddenly. He was here, and perfect, and now just gone. It really makes you question if anything you know is ever real.

I am realizing just how not ready to move on I am. How not ready to re-open my shops, do new work, or make new things I am. Antonio, on the other hand, is throwing himself into doing all the things. He’s cleaned our house repeatedly, cleaned the garage, worked on making bathroom shelves, started winterizing the outside things, etc. He just doesn’t stop. I think he’s started to realize that his idea to keep busy doesn’t really help either. All the distractions in the world won’t make the fact that Milo is gone go away.

I keep tying to figure out how to confront these things, so I can deal and process them, and be able to want to do new things again, but I don’t know how. I’ve now read and talked to so many other moms like me, and basically, we’re on our own. We have to go through it and figure it out for ourselves. There is guidance to help with destructive and unhealthy behaviors and reactions, but no real one path to ‘do it right’.

It scares me when I talk to parents who are years out from their child’s death and they tell me that it still hurts like the first day, and that they still are triggered by certain things. It’s just an incredibly heavy weight to think about carrying around forever. Right now every single thing is a trigger or makes me think either about him directly or the fact that he is now gone. Every thing. Even when it may seem like nothing is wrong, I’m thinking about it. Any time I’m not engaged in conversation or a task, I’m thinking about him, how he’s not here, and how I can’t believe it.

Looking ahead to the next season, thinking about all the new things he would have gotten to experience this year – it’s just hard. Gabe pulled the wagon out of the garage this weekend and said he was going to pull ‘my Milo’ in it, and collected the baby toys in it for him. I just don’t know how to respond to that. He knows he’s gone. He will tell you quite matter of factly that he died. Yet, he still pretends to play with him and thinks about him. I bought Gabe a new car track toy, and while in the store, he went to the baby toys and said they were for Milo too. It’s just so confusing to figure out and remember that it’s not just me that lost him. We all did.

Advertisements

One thought on “Carrying On

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: