Every day people ask me how I’m doing. When I can tell that they really mean to ask “how are you doing?” I tell them: “Each day is different.” Actually, each moment is different. I can be going about my daily routine and completely get caught off guard.
Today my only child wanted “up” for “snuggles.” “I can’t pick you up right now, baby,” I explained. “How come???” And I told her that when the baby went to see God that it hurt my belly. Then, feeling her soft baby(ish) skin against me I was overcome with sadness. “Mommy, are you crying? Do you miss the baby? Mommy, you miss the baby just like I miss the baby.” I picked up my 40-pound toddler even though I’m not supposed to do so, and she dried my tears with her shirt. Ugh, when a 3-year-old is consoling a 35-year-old . . . pretty sad.
Monday was my first day back at work. I had seen a psychologist the Wednesday before. He thought it was incredibly poor form for the OB to have suggested that I would go back to work 2 days after a curretage procedure for a third-time miscarriage. Indeed, I felt incredibly guilty but relieved not to be at work the rest of last week. I went to a student recital on Tuesday night, and I could hardly take the sadness, concern, and sympathy in my students’ and colleagues’ eyes.
This past Monday I was more or less ready to be back at work. Tuesday I was already feeling tired and overwhelmed. Today was awful. I taught 6 voice lessons and a theory class and didn’t have time during my lunch break for lunch. I got home and my husband had to leave, so I was left to figure out dinner and put our daughter to bed.
I am not winning any mother of the year awards. I found a pizza in the freezer. My daughter is watching Noggin’ while I type. My husband should be done with his stuff in 5 minutes, but I need to put her to bed before he gets home. I dread night time still. Night time means sleep which means that the next day sneaks up on me. It’s been 2 weeks since I first became aware of problems with my pregnancy. How can that be? How has nearly 2 weeks passed since the ultrasound that revealed my dead baby???
I’ve slept some since then. I’ve drunk some since then. I’ve taken zanax since then.
Every day is different. Perhaps that is what gives me the strength to keep waking up “tomorrow.” No, that’s not it – it’s knowing that my little family depends on me. Right now there’s not much more that gets me to “tomorrow,” but maybe that’s ok.