Back to Work

I went back to work today.  I have mixed feelings about it, although it seems to have improved my mood for the evening.  In theory, it would be considered much better than sitting on the couch and watching TV, even if I didn't accomplish anything.  But I'm not sure yet if it is.  I am no good at being around people or even basic communication sometimes.  And I really miss the TV shows I have become so attached to over the past few weeks.  I had a routine going that was comfortable for me. 

I read another baby loss mom blog (will link it here when I figure out how) and she spoke of being a more compassionate and kind person.  I have to admit that right now I'm not sure that I am.  I have feel like I have two polar opposites, the side of me that is the kind, compassionate one, but it depends on what I have to be kind and compassionate about.  The other side of me could care less about a lot of things and it's hard to pretend.  

Lots of things are hard to pretend and I think that is all I did today was pretend.  I pretended to be happy, or at least not completely overcome with sadness.  I pretended to interested in conversations that really had no meaning to me yet.  I pretended to be focused at times, intently going through email or work folders.  There were a few times I didn't have to pretend.  A student asked me what I thought about a certain aspect of the job that I would normally be in charge of, but am not right now because I don't think I could do the job justice.  It felt good to help, even if in a very small way.  I was grateful the student asked me.  I am also grateful that the very same student did not ask me "How are you doing?".

It was re-affirmed today that I hate that question.  "How are you doing?"  People ask in all kinds of tones.  I'm not sure how to explain them.  I don't think most people really want to know, they just don't know what else to say.  There are a few who really want to know and I always tear up when I tell them.  Not everyone asked that either.  Some colleagues stopped by to say "I'm glad you're back."  That was much easier to hear.  

All in all I suppose I will go back tomorrow. 

Overwhelmed...

So I'm not very good at this blogging thing so far...It's not that I don't have anything to say, I do.  I'm just figuring out how much of my life I want to share, I think.  I'm not even sure that's why I've I had such a hard time writing.  Blogging felt great the first couple of times, but then I realized that once I post it, it's out there for anyone to see and forever.  It just seems overwhelming, like most things these days.  

The other night, I woke up and couldn't even wrap my mind around the fact that I had lost my son.  I couldn't comprehend that I would never hold him and never see him grow up.  How do I deal with losing my son?  How do I wake up every day and go on about my life knowing he will never live his here with us?  I will never have answers for these questions other than I will deal and I will wake up everyday and continue to live my life.  The loss I feel for my son will always be there.  It will change shape from time to time, but it will always be there.  Right next to it will be my deep, deep love for him.





 

Supposed to...

I have been working on Alfy's story.  I think I have made it through the doctor's appointment but haven't gotten past that yet.  Journaling has been very therapeutic for me but I found that it's been hard for me to write here without having his story completed.  I have written his story in my journal but it's not as detailed as the one I'm writing here.  I started it Saturday when I was full of energy and strength.  I should have continued to work on it on Sunday, another day full of energy and strength.  I had planned on finishing his story yesterday, but yesterday sucked.  It was like crashing after a major sugar high.  I had no energy, no motivation and was extremely sad. It was the first day of the summer camp I normally run.  I hope the day went well.  I was supposed to be there for the first day.  I was supposed to be there for the first four weeks of camp, give or take a week.  My due date was the end of June.  I was NOT supposed to be there during the month of July.  I will be now though.  That makes me sad. I love my job, but it is going to be very hard to be there when I wasn't supposed to be.  That is how I think now, how things were supposed to be.  I was supposed to be 36 weeks pregnant right now, with swollen legs and feet.  I was supposed to be coming home from work every day exhausted.  I was supposed to be finishing Alfy's room.  I was supposed to be preparing to become a traditional mom, not a baby loss mom (a term I have found in several blogs and on several websites).  I could go on and on about the things I was supposed to be doing, but instead I will start doing the things I need to do today.  As time goes on, I think the supposed to's will lessen, but they won't ever go away and that's okay.  They keep me connected to my son.

On another quick note, I have been thinking about all of those sayings that you are supposed to take each and every day and make the most of it, right now I don't believe in those sayings or maybe I just have an extremely skewed view of what making the most of each day is.  Yesterday, the most I could make of the day was to get through it.  I've found that I don't know what the most of each day is until I get to the end of it.  

Gotta Start Somewhere

I have been trying to come up with the name for my blog for over a week now so I could get started.  I'm not sure if I was more afraid of choosing the wrong name or of blogging itself.  You see, to start blogging is, for me, to admit that I have suffered a traumatic loss in my life.  I needed the title of my blog to reflect that loss, but also allow hope for the future.  I hope this title does both justice.

The important term in the title is you.  There are so many people that "you" refers to.  The "you" that has driven me to start a blog is my son, Alfonso.  He was born into Heaven on April 6, 2012 at 28 weeks (a story I will tell to the world eventually).  "You" refers to my husband, Tony, who has been by my side through all of this and has been my rock.  "You" refers to my mom who sends me "Thinking of You" cards to let me know just that.  "You" refers to my dad who would do anything to take all of this pain away.  "You" refers to my sister who is planning a wedding in October.  "You" refers to her son, my nephew, who will be five months old on June 16.  "You" refers to my brother who just moved into a new house.  "You" refers to anyone who might take the time to read this blog because if you are reading this, chances are you experienced a traumatic loss as well or know someone who did.  And while I may not know you, I will think of you.


I am writing this blog for all of the "you's" out there but mostly for me.  I have never really enjoyed writing, but that was Before.  Now, After, I find it therapeutic.  It is a much easier way for me to communicate with the world.  I can take the time to process my thoughts and to buffer myself from others' thoughts.  

So here it is world, my first blog post.  Boy, I wish we would have met under different circumstances.