My first day back at work was pretty good. I was very busy, and I found that i liked it. I liked putting aside my own issues for a while to help others. Distraction was wonderful. Feeling like I was good at something was wonderful. I was flying through the day, a bit on autopilot, but also recognizing that my skills and my knowledge and my training was something very useful, somewhere. I wasn’t just a broken mother of a dead baby, sitting around with nothing to do but cry and feel angry. There’s nothing wrong with doing that, but it felt good to do, and to be, more.
Of course it’s hard to face the sympathetic looks, and hard to see life going on so smoothly and completely, without my baby. Then again, I welcomed the hugs, and the condolences, because my co-workers were at least recognizing my loss, and my pain, even though they knew I had to put on a brave face and act a part at work. And I really felt that support from them and truly appreciated it.
I won’t NOT talk about it, or sweep it aside, or act like I was never pregnant or never lost my child. At the same time, I don’t want to be one of those crazy people who talks of nothing else.
I feel twitches all the time in the same place that I felt her moving inside me. I feel it and it cuts me to the core. Why am I feeling her move when I know she’s not there? I don’t need a physical reminder of all I don’t have and should have…