Thursday, July 15, 2010

First day

First day back at the bookstore. I got up, dropped Jonathan off at work, because his car is in the shop AGAIN, came home, got ready and went on in. Scary. I stayed in the back, hidden in the office I used to share with a co-worker. I worked on data entry. It was nice, simple. I didn’t have to think, which is a nice break right now. I don’t really feel like I’m working, because I am not getting paid. I work, I get books. The perfect combination for me. Low key, no pressure. It’s hard to be back at the store, to remember the years I was there before Charlotte, and the months I worked there with Charlotte growing in my belly. There are a lot of questions I cannot answer right now, but I can sit in the back of the bookstore, take one catalog into my hands at a time, and input information. I can flip through the glossy pages and know I ordered a title in hardcover and it sold well so I should order it in paperback. There is comfort in the familiar, in the knowledge that I can still do the book buying thing even if I failed at the mothering thing. Next week I go back. One day a week, one catalog at a time until I figure out where to go from here. Love to the owner who lets me float in and out, on my own time, in my own grief space; a space that requires no real commitment just in case I wake up to a bad day and am unable to get past the ‘put on yoga pants, sit on the couch’ stage of my day.

I’m a bit of a mess. Okay, I’m a lot of a mess. I feel like I’m doing okay, but when I sit quietly by myself I realize I am skimming over Charlotte constantly. My mind races, I am always thinking, and whenever my thoughts land on Charlotte, which is about every other second, I shoot off in a different direction as soon as I can. If I think about her I cry. If I think about her I get angry. If I think about her I fear I will start screaming and never stop. If I think about her I start asking questions and wondering why I am driving down the road on a beautiful summer day with no baby car seat in the back. If I think about her I fill up with sorrow so quickly I fear I may drown. There is no air left in this world when I think about her, so I force the thoughts away. And yet it is impossible for me not to think of her. I carried her for 38 weeks. It is impossible to carry someone for that long and not miss them when they cease to be. As those who have nurtured someone through a long illness know: to go from I need you to carry me through this to please let me go, I need to not be here anymore is gut wrenching even if you see it coming. And I had no warning.

My new necklaces click and slide together every time I move. The charms comfort, they soothe, my hands constantly go to them, and yet they are a reminder as well. Every time my fingers brush the cool metal I am jolted back to that moment when I leaned down and wrapped my fingers around her foot. She opened her dark eyes, time stopped, then started rushing, hurtling toward the inevitable conclusion, and my baby said good-bye. Her sweet hands, her beautiful feet, this is what is left of a life.

I need to figure out the food thing. I have no appetite, haven’t had much of one since Charlotte died. When I do eat, it’s usually foods that are not good for me. Yesterday I had raisins and M&M’s for breakfast. Today I’ve had a few crackers and M&M’s. I need to eat more, but I can’t find the motivation. I wake up, shuffle into the kitchen to make a smoothie, and find myself walking out of the kitchen with empty hands. Nothing looks good and I never feel like eating. If you put food in front of me I will eat it. If you ask me what I want to eat I will probably cry. I need to get back to my healthy eating regimen so I have the energy to exercise and lose the extra seven pounds I seem to be carrying entirely in my stomach region. If there is no baby why must I have this excess weight? I’m afraid I won’t shed it and I will go into the next pregnancy (let me toss out the usual caveat here: if there is to be a next pregnancy) seven pounds heavier and then before you know it I will be 200 pounds. This is how that happens, right? And no, I’m not not eating because I think that will help me lose weight. I’m aware enough to know that is an eating disorder and if that were the case I would need help. Lots of it and in great quantities. I just don’t have the energy to eat and we aren’t the kind of people who have lots of excess cash floating around so we can hire someone to feed me. If we were rich I would have a personal chef and a personal trainer and all would be solved on the food and exercise front. Since that is never going to happen I need to get myself together, start eating, start exercising, and make sure I am in shape for the next pregnancy (insert usual caveat here).

Whew. As I said, I am a bit of a mess right now. I am a little crazed and very sad, but I am still getting up each morning, putting on clothes instead of yoga pants and a tank top (most days), and I am slowly, ever so slowly, with a shuffling, hesitant gait, figuring out what to do with my life.

10 comments:

  1. Be gentle with yourself. Your loss is so very fresh.

    As far as your body and weight loss goes, I remember my therapist talking w/ me about how it took 9 months to put on about 30 lbs, it would take 9 months to take it off. I'm pretty happy that I'm now past 9 months, and only have 1-2 lbs. left to lose. But I still have a flabbier stomach than before, and slightly different body shape. something I think I would totally accept as OK if I had a living child.

    I remember one night as I drove home from work (probably around 3 months after my loss), I raged at my body. Crying in my car - just wanting to get AWAY from my body, my constant reminder that I HAD a child, but didn't have my living baby with me. Our body also carries the memory of our sweet baby.

    All I know is that grief takes time. And it's different for all of us. "They" say that what we resist, persists. And "they" say if we don't allow ourselves to experience our grief now, it will raise it's ugly head later. I think it takes courage to face it head on. My hope is that you can be with your grief, and allow it to wash it over you and keep it moving. I've found that to be most helpful for me (and no, I'm not always capable of doing that). :)

    ((Hugs))

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  2. I love reading your thoughts and feelings. I cannot imagine the strength it takes to just put it all out there for anyone (strangers and almost strangers) to read. You're doing great in my opinion. I'm sure it doesn't feel like it though, but you really are. I know I struggle with the whole "motivation to eat" thing when I go through bouts of depression and I deal with a lot less than you. I'm praying for you and your husband as you come to mind.

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  3. I hear you on the no appetite...I too feel so differently. You're so lucky to be working in a book store where you can hide in the back...I wish I didn't have to interact so much with people sometimes, especially when most of them are complaining & I have to try to act sympathetic.
    Thinking of you and sending love your way!

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  4. I hear you on the no appetite...I too feel so differently. You're so lucky to be working in a book store where you can hide in the back...I wish I didn't have to interact so much with people sometimes, especially when most of them are complaining & I have to try to act sympathetic.
    Thinking of you and sending love your way!

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  5. My thoughts are the same way, all over the place. They are always on some aspect of Jacob. Some make me cry, some make me feel hopeless, some fill me with love because I love him so much, some fill me with despair. Lately it is despair and I have to sneak off to my 'crying' room at work and cry until I can't anymore.

    I am so glad you had that moment with Charlotte, of reaching down and holding her foot. I know it is a painful memory as well, but it was a precious moment between the two of you, who had been together for 38 weeks, exchanging love the whole time.

    The eating thing is hard. If it was up to me, I wouldn't be eating well at all. Luckily my husband cooks alot and that makes me eat decently most of the time, at least at dinner. Of course, all day today, all I had were some Vegetable Thins crackers and some yogurt covered raisins. I tell myself I have to eat well so that I can get pregnant again. That is about the only reason I make any effort. All of my excess weight is in my abdomen too. It is so cruel. I stand up and look down, I see a belly, I lie on my side, I see the belly. I have to lie flat on my back not to see it at all, and even then I find my hand on my belly all the time. That habit is hard to break and I'm not sure I want to.

    I'm thinking about you, as always.

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  6. I crave someone, my dh really, to say these words to me...

    "Well done. Good for you. Another day still upright. You're doing so well."

    Take it from me, you deserve those words.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I can't say it better than Merry already has. You are doing so well.

    I'm glad that the owner of your bookstore is being so supportive.

    The moment that you describe with your daughter is beautiful, your little dark eyed girl with her perfect hands and feet. Of course you miss her terribly.

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  8. at least you got off the couch! just kidding. i shouldn't be the one to talk when i haven't gotten past the 'put-on-eyeglasses-get-laptop-surf-the-net-and-stay-in-bed-all-day' stage.

    but it's good that you've taken a step forward even if it's just a little bit at a time. some days it may set you back, but hopefully there will be more days that will be easier. i'm not there yet but i'm trying to move forward inch by inch. i've started a blog and wrote my very first entry. i feel that if I don't start now, the words will never come at all.

    as for eating healthy, i also have a problem with it. the only things i have appetite for these days are boiled sweet corn and watermelon with the occasional vegan brownie. fortunately, MIL (bless her heart) brought some veggie dishes and fruits this week. really without her help and mothering, the husband and i would be on brownie diet for weeks.

    sending you tranquility and peace of mind for the days ahead.

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  9. eat what you can. don't worry about it. the time for that will be later.

    is there someone who would prepare meals for you that are easy to eat and require no faffing? if so could you ask them?

    i'm glad your work is so amazing.
    xx

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  10. I crave someone, my dh really, to say these words to me...

    "Well done. Good for you. Another day still upright. You're doing so well."

    Take it from me, you deserve those words.

    ReplyDelete

thank you!

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