Finally, when the day was behind us, I went to bed sad. I woke up sad. I miss her.
Today I woke up ready to try again. But some typical life stress boiled over early in the morning, usual stuff of marriages and a toddler and life and pets and housework and potty training and next week is this and that and we have to mail two cards and get a gift and make an appetizer and get a babysitter and what do they all truly think of me as a mom and a friend, but on top of everything else, on top of the fact that I feel like I am just barely stitched back together sometimes, the dam broke.
It was a messy, emotional morning. I had to focus just to pick myself up off the floor. I saw the look on his face as he had to leave for work. He didn't want to walk out but life goes on. We are almost six months out and we knew we would get to this point where the resources dry up. Sometimes I throw myself into other projects and I'm sure I look like to most of you that I have moved on a bit. I'm distracting myself from this pain that is always so close to the surface. If you look somewhat put together some of the time, the expectations come back, from others and from yourself and then a day like today is doubly devastating.
A butterfly flutters its wings and that's enough pressure to send me spiraling out of control into the abyss of grief.
After he left, I thought about what I would do if I were truly ill today. I laid on the couch with E, we watched way too much television, we ate food we shouldn't have eaten, but my husband brought us lunch and we still managed to work on potty training a bit. At nap time, we curled up together in "Momma's bed," and I tried to surround her with love all day. I want her to know that even when I'm at my worst, she comes first. We may have watched a lot of shows, but they were carefully chosen. We were dressed. She had eaten. After nap, we even made it to the park. Today, that would have to be enough.
I expressed my sadness via Facebook which sometimes feels so self indulgent. I got responses of love, my neighbor (who is quickly becoming a best friend) made us dinner, and I feel a bit better tonight.
Parent guilt is staggering even when you aren't grieving. You can spend so much time constantly comparing yourself to the next parent who is outside more, doing more projects, makes it to library story time looking great with the kids' hair combed, eats only organic, and so on.
I have to remember it's just one day. I can try again tomorrow.