And here I go again. Falling down that spiraling rabbit hole of darkness again. Where I just want to hide away in my house and not talk to or deal with anyone. Where instead of feeling excited or happy about certain things, I feel bitter, angry and jealous. Where I know that my reactions aren't normal and I can't talk about them to anyone because no one would understand.
Sometimes I feel more broken than is possible to repair. That my heart will never be whole again. That the pain will ever go away. That I'll go a full day without crying. That fear and anxiety won't be a permanent fixture in my life.
I don't want to not miss him or forget about him. Not by any means. I just want to not hurt so much anymore. Almost 8 months later and I still remember every single thing about him. His soft crazy hair, his sweet lips, the way his skin smelled and felt, his face buried into my neck. His sleep squeaks. The way he grabbed his Wubbanubs and held them tightly. His big beautiful smile.
I hate that I only get a couple of hours to really let it all out. I wait until Jeff has gone to bed and stay up really late to just cry it all out and then wake up in the morning and hold it in all day long until everyone has gone to bed and repeat.
I hate that I can't feel happiness over any baby born since Alex died because I'm so consumed with jealousy and bitterness.
I hate that instead of enjoying my pregnancy, I want to rush to the end so I can have the baby here and hover over her and hook her up to an apnea monitor and watch her 24/7 to make sure she's alive and breathing.
I hate that I can't just be normal anymore. That I can't buy a new Rock N Play for Zoe, even though she would probably sleep great in it, because Alex died in one. I hate that other people can use them without giving it a second thought. I hate that I'll never sleep without fear of waking up to find my child dead. That I've considered never letting Zoe nap. Ever. Or only napping on me.
I hate that I'll never be the mother she deserves. Whole and complete and unbroken. That she'll grow up in the shadow of sadness.
