The Chicago blizzard of 2015 has been a big old pain in the butt.
We lightheartedly listened to the warnings, stocked up on a few extra groceries, and watched the storm roll in. 18 inches later, we have a few more stacking up this week and dangerously dropping temperatures.
My biggest obstacle is cabin fever. I admit I escape often just to breathe. I'm not a good mom because I stay at home. I'm at my best when I find time to get out, blow off steam, and recharge.
Today was my breaking point. Luckily I was able to sneak in an hour for a mindless (but solo) grocery run. Sunglasses were propped in thier usual place just in case another round of tears that have been plaguing me all day snuck up again. And as another pregnant friend sent a complaint about morning sickness, I lost it standing in front of the gnocchi.
By the way, when you bury your child, it seems like the entire world around you is fertile. Except me of course. I just get to listen to all the complaints and be supportive.
My thoughts and tears were redirected at the calender. 2 years ago we were celebrating the news this week. We were going to wait and tell the girls at a special Valentines dinner, but they figured it out. Joy. Pure and simple joy filled or home. You can not imagine the love and excitement that had us all so thankful for this blessing.
That joy seems another lifetime away right now. Nobody wants to remind me of those times. When your baby dies, it's all grief. All sadness. All darkness.
I need to feel that joy again. I want with all of my heart to think of CJ with such excitement and anticipation that I can barely keep from smiling and giving away my secret! Because you see, one day I will have my son back in my arms. And until that promised day, I am still CJ's mom.
This week hurts. It hurts maybe more than his death anniversary because today was the promise of a first life with us here on earth. The world is just going to have to excuse my crappy attitude and tears for a few days. Please don't tell me you are sorry and send your condolences. Please do not speak of my son in the past tense. Just love him as if he were here to spoil. Acknowledge that I HAVE a son. Love us both for trying to muddle through this crap.
And good grief.... give me a few days to support myself on this journey. I share in every one of your joys. I can't wait to snuggle every little bundle. But my heart needs a break. Just ask me about me, and really listen.
Love to you all. #doitforcj
No comments:
Post a Comment