the waves are back
It's late at night, I am overwhelmed with all of the school work and studying I need to do, and I am completely exhausted. I am feeling the passage of time so deeply today - it's one week today until Abby's birthday. All of the memories I have of my pregnancy with her, her birth and death, her funeral, it's all flooding back at me in waves.
There is a commerical on tv about global warming where people are washing their cars and doing ordinary things while their streets are flooding or fires are burning around them. This is what I feel like - the memories of Abby are flooding around me while I am forced to carry on with Life. I don't ignore the memories completely, but I sure don't have the time and space to 'go there' the way I used to. I am talking about her more, gently reminding people that her birthday and angelversary are coming up. I desperately need to speak her name and share her memory. I feel breathless from the pain when I think about the fact that it's been two years since she was born and died.
Two. Years.
It just can't be right. It feels too fresh and too painful to be that long.
As usual, bittersweet doesn't begin to describe what it feels like to be preparing for Charlotte's birthday at the same time as Abby's. I buy an angel food cake mix to bake Abby's birthday cake, knowing she will not be here to eat it with us. And two steps further down the grocery aisle, I pick up a box of rainbow confetti cake mix for Charlotte's cake, that she will squish between her fingers and rub into her hair. I bought a gift for Charlotte's birthday today, a gift to Charlotte from Abby, then I wandered around the store before I realized I was trying to find something for Abby, from Charlotte. I left that store with one little bag, and a crushing pain in my chest. At another store, I bought balloons for both of my babies; some that will be released into the sky at the cemetery, and some that will be chased around the living room by a curious one year old.
How can this be? Unfair just isn't a strong enough word. And to add insult to injury, Jack will be hundereds of miles away when I see the time of Abby's death on the clock, when I light the candle on her birthday cake, and when I release her balloons at the cemetery. To not be able to feel his arms around me and hold me up, to not be able to see his tears through mine......
*sigh*
p.s. I know that I haven't been replying to comments much these days, but I am reading and I appreciate the love and kind words so very much. Keep them coming, I will need them to remind me that I am not alone this week.
There is a commerical on tv about global warming where people are washing their cars and doing ordinary things while their streets are flooding or fires are burning around them. This is what I feel like - the memories of Abby are flooding around me while I am forced to carry on with Life. I don't ignore the memories completely, but I sure don't have the time and space to 'go there' the way I used to. I am talking about her more, gently reminding people that her birthday and angelversary are coming up. I desperately need to speak her name and share her memory. I feel breathless from the pain when I think about the fact that it's been two years since she was born and died.
Two. Years.
It just can't be right. It feels too fresh and too painful to be that long.
As usual, bittersweet doesn't begin to describe what it feels like to be preparing for Charlotte's birthday at the same time as Abby's. I buy an angel food cake mix to bake Abby's birthday cake, knowing she will not be here to eat it with us. And two steps further down the grocery aisle, I pick up a box of rainbow confetti cake mix for Charlotte's cake, that she will squish between her fingers and rub into her hair. I bought a gift for Charlotte's birthday today, a gift to Charlotte from Abby, then I wandered around the store before I realized I was trying to find something for Abby, from Charlotte. I left that store with one little bag, and a crushing pain in my chest. At another store, I bought balloons for both of my babies; some that will be released into the sky at the cemetery, and some that will be chased around the living room by a curious one year old.
How can this be? Unfair just isn't a strong enough word. And to add insult to injury, Jack will be hundereds of miles away when I see the time of Abby's death on the clock, when I light the candle on her birthday cake, and when I release her balloons at the cemetery. To not be able to feel his arms around me and hold me up, to not be able to see his tears through mine......
*sigh*
p.s. I know that I haven't been replying to comments much these days, but I am reading and I appreciate the love and kind words so very much. Keep them coming, I will need them to remind me that I am not alone this week.