One Month Down

Yesterday was my due date, the magical 40 week mark that I still have yet to hit with any of my pregnancies, it also marked one month since Robyns birth and death.

I guess that officially that should be death and birth, death came before birth for her, which is just an odd concept to wrap your head around.

I’d been dreading the anniversary, was preparing myself to be a wreck for the entire day, but it came and went without a tear shed. Why should one day hurt any more than the previous ones simply because it’s a full month, year or decade. Anniversaries are what we make them, so I made yesterday a celebration of Connor’s 18 month birthday, with cupcakes that spilled out of their wrappers and a bright yellow crown that was too small for his head.

The emotions are different now, the grief and pain isn’t completely overwhelming, it ebbs and flows. Sometimes it’s just a pang, like this morning seeing a pink and black newborn outfit I would have bought, sometimes a scene in a movie will set me off (FYI, when you’ve just lost a child, Kill Bill is probably not advised) it’s like I’m drowning in tears and I need Dan there rubbing my back and helping me to calm down.

I’ve come a long way in a month. For the nine days in between her birth and the funeral I wrote daily in a private journal, it helped me process things. Just reading back on those first few days shows me how far I’ve come, logic and sense have returned.

The overwhelming desire to steal someone’s baby has left and although I think about getting pregnant almost hourly, I also know that’s not going to be a good move for me, mentally or physically, right now.

I no longer feel guilt for walking away and leaving her in the hospital, instead sense has returned and I understand that there wasn’t anything else we could do.

The haze of confusion has made way for a whole new wave of ambition and determination. I was so insistent that this all had to be happening for a reason, something good must come from it, and if that something good is me being a better mother, and more enthusiasm to achieve bigger and better things in my personal goals, then I’m happy with that.

We still have more hurdles to jump over, we got a letter a couple of days ago saying that Robyn’s ashes were ready to be picked up, we need to scatter them, and then the dreaded autopsy results in just under a month. But overall I feel each week my mental state improves a little bit, the individual days, and even hours, are up and down, but if you step back and look at it on a bigger scale, I’m getting there, I don’t think the pain will ever heal, but ever so slowly it’s easing, and that’s all I can hope for right now.

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