19 days - hitting bottom

Today was bad.  I forgot to eat, to drink enough water – basically forgot to take care of myself.  Wasn’t intentional, but it seemed to make my meds wear off more quickly (I was probably tired/dehydrated) and the nightly cry-fest hit me earlier than usual.  Unfortunately triggered by my son’s reaction to the photo album that arrived today.  I asked if he wanted to see it, and all he said was “no”, and went back to his toys.  I know he’s only 9, nearly 10, but it cut me like he couldn’t be bothered.  I feel like my heart is so broken, so fragile and raw, that my grief should transcend boundaries and everyone should cry along with me.  But I know I can’t expect that.  And he’s only protecting himself, he doesn’t want to be sad or want anyone else to feel sad, especially mom and step-dad.  I feel like I’m so emotionally fragile, however, I can’t cope with the slightest negative or even neutral reaction.

I’ve become extremely paranoid.  I’m terrified something will happen to my husband or living son.  I’m scared that my husband will eventually grow so weary of trying to take care of me and repeating himself that one day he will say “I’m sorry” and follow it up with “but I can’t do this anymore.”  I’m worried my son resents me because he feels this is my fault – at least it’s my fault because I got his hopes up and they were shattered without reason.  I’m scared he’s going to hold it all in and be emotionally stunted.  I’m worried our friends aren’t going to know how to talk to us from now on and we’ll lose a lot of them.  I’m scared that if we have another baby down the line, no one will get excited, and we’ll just get looks of worry and pity until we deliver a hopefully healthy, live baby.

               
I don’t want to live in fear, but I literally could not unwind myself from the fetal position, crying, today.  No one is ever going to be happy for us again, if we have another – they’ll just cringe when we announce it.  And I’ll panic the entire time.  And people will expect me to be “normal” anytime in the future.  I will never be “normal” after this – part of me died that day with her.  I am so empty it’s unfathomable.  I aged 20 years in an instant.  I can’t see the hope or happy future everyone keeps telling me I’ll eventually have, or the strength they insist I have just in “being here” now.  I’m only here because I’ve lost the will to do anything.

               
I told my son tonight that we have 2 choices – we can be sad and let the sadness ruin our lives, or we can live happy, full lives which is what Coraline would have wanted.  I feel terrible because I can’t believe that right now – I don’t think I have a choice.  I am hanging on by my fingernails on a thin thread that’s about to snap.  I’m emotionally destroyed, and I can’t even function enough to be there for my family.  I’m scared that this grief is going to consume me and I’ll just let it because I have nothing to fight for anymore – my husband will have left and my son won’t want anything to do with me.  I don’t know if we’re going to have another baby – I don’t know if I can bear it.  It’s not even a matter of being strong and moving past the grieving – it takes over and takes control and I can’t stop it.  Even when my head is pounding, even though I’ve lost hearing and have ringing in my ears from crying so much, I can’t stop.  I make myself numb so I can get through a majority of the day, then I let it all come out when Matt gets home. 

                
 I feel like a horrible wife/partner.  I can’t do anything for myself, let alone him.  I’ve only been depressed when he comes home.  I can’t be emotionally available to him, or mentally.  He keeps insisting there’s nowhere he’d rather be than at my side, but how can I be any kind of a wife to him?  How can I ever make anyone else happy when I feel like I’ll never be happy again?  He deserves so much more than what I’ve given him, which I feel is only pain and anguish.  He thanks me for giving him his baby girl, and though I know he’s sincere, that is like a knife in the heart because I couldn’t give him a living child.

                
 The blame is taking over.  I know I should stop the cycle, but I can’t.  She died in my body – my body betrayed me, how could I ever trust it, or myself, not to do the same again?  It was my job to keep her safe, and I failed.  Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother in any sense.  Some people float through life without experiencing any kind of tragedy – maybe this was the universe’s way of chastising me for wanting too much.  Although I can’t believe my innocent baby would be made to suffer for my sins, I have never felt this much heartache or pain and I don’t know how anyone ever recovers from it.