Withdrawing

It’s happening, but I don’t even realize it. I’m withdrawing from life. I just don’t want to do much. It’s all just another way to distract because literally any time I am not distracted, I am thinking about how much I miss him, how I just want him back, and how I want my life back. Driving in the car, wandering stores, trying to sit and craft something, it all leaves quiet space in my head that is open for me to wonder about him.

I really am coming to hate the words HARD and WEIRD. They are the only typical ways to describe everything. It’s all just hard, and the feelings are all weird. Almost everything that brings me joy also brings me pain and sadness. It’s just so much more diffiult than I ever imagined.

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I want him back. That’s pretty much the resounding feeling that looms lately. I just want my baby back. Now. I miss him so incredibly much. I miss worrying about juggling a toddler and a baby, planning the next seasons clothes and preparations for how to keep them both warm in Halloween costumes. Any time I scroll back in my phone and see his pictures it just revives all of it. I’m still so dumbfounded that he was here and now is just gone.

If you walked into our house right now you’d have no idea that less than 2 months ago we had a baby. Everything is put away. Right now the only glimpses of Milo are the memorial things we’ve recieved for him, the paper flowers I had started to make and hang for his birthday party, and a blue sea glass box sitting on our bar with his ashes in it. It looks like a normal house to any one looking in, but it still so different than it was in September. There are moments where I want to put everything back the way it was, just so it can feel a little like he’s still here. I’m losing that feeling that he’s only just in the other room, and that I can go get him.

I saw a therapist for the first time last week. It was okay. Nothing ground breaking. I feel like it’s going to take a while of just telling her what happened, all about us, and the things going on around us, before it really helps anything. I was kind of hoping for some breakthrough of feeling better, but that’s just not the way this works. I very much feel like all I want is to feel better, and I keep trying to force that feeling, and it’s not working. The rebound from all that trying is deep and painful. Grief is not logical, and I am very logical, and it just confuses me to feel so betrayed when my brain and my heart won’t agree on how this should feel.

Look at his pictures has become super hard. HARD. There’s that word again. He looks so perfect and happy. He was. I just don’t understand what happened. I imagine all these different scenarios where if he had died some other way that it would somehow be easier. I know that none of it is easy though. But, if he had a terminal illness, or birth defect, of even if there had been some horrible accident, that it would be easier to come to terms with. I just can’t understand how my baby can just drop dead. I go over and over it in my head and wish I could have magically known what was going on with him. He was acting ‘off’ but nothing super alarming that couldn’t be easily explained as something all babies do, all the time. I stare at his face just looking for signs that I missed or some little clue I didn’t pick up on.

Yes, I know, there’s nothing else I could have done, and I didn’t do anything wrong, I get it. I can easily tell you I don’t know what else I could have done either. It really doesn’t make any of it hurt any less. Even if I had a list of coulda, shoulda, wouldas, they would make me feel just as desolate and sad. The hurt of wanting something back so badly is so viceral and heavy. It’s a deep longing pain that is nauseating and anxiety producing. I often feel panic when I look at his face. I don’t know why. Just pure terror that I need to do something to get him back.

 

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