Acceptance?

This post is just for me, some venting, I guess that what blogging is though, right?  

Mandi reached the milestone of 28 weeks pregnant on New Year's Eve day.  The irony of it all.  On New Year's Day, 28 weeks and 1 day, 1 day longer than I was able to keep Alfy.  Happy fucking new year to me.  I try not to think about it, but each day is like a twisted timer now. January 1st, 1 day, 2nd, 2 days, 3rd, 3 days, 4th, 4 days, so on and so forth.  I don't think about it all day long, but it does cross my mind, every day.

I realized this week, with the help of my wonderful (truly no sarcasm there) therapist, that I'm starting to move into the acceptance stage of grief.  In 18 minutes it will be January 6, in 18 minutes, 11 hours and 5 additional minute, it will be 10 months since I gave birth to my sweet Alfy.  The acceptance stage of grief, at least for me, isn't exactly what I thought it would be when I thought about it months ago.  I figured the acceptance stage was accepting that my child is gone, but truthfully, I did that a long time ago.  The acceptance stage is accepting everything else that goes along with grief and loss, all the other changes that you don't see coming the moment you're told your child no longer has a heartbeat.  The friends who have disappeared, the relationships that have changed, the people you've let go, the people who have let you go, the new perspective you have on the world.  Everything is now clouded by grief.  

Grief itself has taken on new meanings.  It is no longer the sob until you think it might never stop (although those still come around once in a while).  It now just leaves traces of sadness on everything, music, movies, thoughts, ideas, words, books, conversations, everything.  Sometimes it covers it, sometimes just a sprinkle.  Acceptance means that I have allowed myself to experience life "normally" again.  I still get fits of road rage driving down the interstate everyday, I still have a sense of humor riddled with sarcasm, I still enjoy playing table tennis, I still gossip once in a while and I still take things for granted sometimes, but I think I recognize this flaw much quicker now.

For those of you who are not familiar with the acceptance stage of grief, or grief itself, it does NOT mean that I have "moved on," that I am "over it," or that I am "okay."  It does NOT mean that I have forgotten Alfy or that he is no longer a part of my life or that I no longer want to talk about him.  

I think it means that I am just more present in me.