Out of gas. I’m 100 percent out of gas. Let’s be honest. I don’t have it in me today to be positive or cheer anyone up. It has been a ROUGH couple of weeks. I am struggling desperately to find routine…to find a sense of normal where there is none. I want to be farther along in this process than I actually am. I want a lot of things, actually.
I want to have energy.
I want to not. be. sad.
I want to wake up and not feel like part of me died.
I want Noah at the dinner table with us.
I want him to play with my hair or hug me with that lanky frame of his.
I want to close my eyes at night and not see him hooked up to more machines than I have ever seen in my life.
I want to stop running out of shows that he told me I should watch.
I want to stop looking at his picture and feeling like he died yesterday.
I want to stop feeling like *I* died yesterday.
I want to want to go to the gym.
I want to want be outside.
I want to laugh and mean it.
I want loud, obnoxious dinners.
I want arguing.
I want Gavin to not have teachers accidentally call him Noah.
I want this school year to be over. I’m so effing over it.
I want the year of “firsts” to be over.
I want to have the will to give a shit about something. Anything.
I want to FEEL something other than broken.
I’m tired of it. Tired of feeling tired. It’s like 10 steps forward and 20 back. I keep waiting for me to feel “okay” but it just never comes. I’ve been doing a lot of academic research about child loss and empowerment, learning about the therapeutic process and hearing about other people’s experiences. I suspect that how I’m feeling right now is how every other bereaved mom has felt at some point. I cannot imagine that this is all there is. I keep telling myself that it will get better–that *I* will get better. But honestly? Today I really just feel like saying, “Why bother?”
Noah: I need your help today. Help me feel like this is going to get better. That I can spend a lifetime without you. Help me believe that at some point I will feel SOMETHING other than how much I miss you and how scared I am of losing your brother–a feeling that is completely unwarranted because he’s the safest damn kid I know. Help lift my heart, baby boy. Because it’s heavy and tonight I feel like I’m drowning. ~Amen