At some point in the dream a nice man came and picked up my new baby. He walked with her into the subway. After he disappeared with her I realized she was gone for good. I had now lost two babies.
It is not fun to wake up after a dream like that.
It is Friday and I have taken another day off. If every work week was four days long, then I would be fine. I am trying to accept that, for now, four day weeks are what I need. And I am thankful that I work someplace that allows me that flexibility. On these days off I rarely leave my house. I write, cry, catch up on work, read the paper, and just regroup. By the end of the day, I am able to function again in the real world.
Yesterday I went shopping after school on the Upper West Side. I have put off buying any new pants in a bigger size because I hate the fact that I have not lost all the weight from my pregnancy. I managed to buy some stuff, but in between I cried in the dressing rooms of Old Navy, Banana Republic, and Gap. As I went to meet my friend afterwards, I felt like I was walking a gauntlet, with infant carriers and baby bjorns everywhere I looked. I stumbled into my friends apartment and burst into tears. The night was salvaged after some good food and lots of wine. Up until this point in my life I have never understood people who would say, "I really need a drink." Now I get it.
1 comment:
Cam and Josh - You are really courageous with your writing. Thank you for sharing how you feel so honestly. As a friend, I am glad to know that you want to talk about Julia and show pictures of her. I can't say that I would have known that otherwise. My heart hurts for you when I read your posts about how constant and present your grief is - that time isn't exactly a friend here but an extension. We love you guys and wish there were a way to carry some of this weight for you.
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