My grief has taken really weird forms this week.
I expected to be extremely sad on November 4th, then after that day, move back to the state of mind I’ve been in for months — quiet awareness of what happened, quiet sadness for what was lost.
But November 4th was weird. I started out numb, not believing that it was actually November 4th. I didn’t cry at first. A lot like the day I lost my baby — in complete denial at first because of the shock. Today can’t be my due date, I thought; it hasn’t been long enough yet. It’s not possible that he would have been here now. All of this didn’t actually happen.
Then I had lunch with a friend and forgot about it all for a couple hours, or at least, forgot in the sense that it wasn’t at the front of my mind.
She left, and as the day started its downhill slope into early evening, things got real. The day was almost over. I just wanted to hold onto it, because if I let the day go it was like saying he was really gone. That was when I started to think of him, to remember what it was like being pregnant with him. I just wanted to hold on to it. I hadn’t felt this way since the first week after my miscarriage. I was all of a sudden re-living my pregnancy, and at the same time, re-living my miscarriage. Re-living the day, and those first few weeks when the sadness was so fresh.
That’s when it felt more real than it has in a long time. It actually felt like I was living it all over again — vividly. I was nostalgic, and happy, thinking about my pregnancy. But then the memory of my miscarriage would go hand-in-hand with that, bringing me back to sadness. Real sadness, fresh sadness. Raw feelings that I haven’t felt since it happened.
At that point I tried to stretch out the day for as long as I could, because I just wanted November 4th to mean something. I’m not sure if that makes me crazy or not, but it’s how I felt.
And since then, I’ve had extreme ups and downs of emotions. I thought once I got past November 4th I’d be less sad. It’s quite the opposite, actually.
One minute I’m my usual self, going about the day as I always do, with quiet awareness of the memories and thoughts of him. The next, I’m numb again. This didn’t actually happen. And then the next, I recall a memory. It’s completely fresh in my mind, and so real, and I find myself sobbing, not believing that it’s past November 4th and that he’s not here. It’s almost like I thought the year would end after November 4th and that even though I’d still be quietly sad, I could start over on November 5th.
Boy was I wrong. I didn’t even consider the fact that after November 4th, he would’ve been here with us. Every morning I get up now, I think about how he’s not here, and this is when he actually should have been. It was different when I would’ve just been pregnant. Now it’s like there is really something missing. It’s so in my face, so unavoidable, and just all too real. I wish I could make it go away. But in a weird way, I want it to stay. I just don’t want to let go of him.
This probably makes me sound crazy, but I don’t care.