Wednesday, April 28, 2010

6 months

You would be 6 months old today. I still feel empty and broken and alone here without you. True, I am surrounded by people--by your dad and brother especially--but I turn inward. Time stands still now that you're gone. I have no desire to diet, to exercise, to shed the rest of the mid-section goo that was supposed to be naturally depleted by "the breastfeeding diet." Perhaps I want to look as shitty on the outside as I feel on the inside. But I think that's over-thinking it. I think I just feel awful and dead and don't give a shit about much at all. And my appearance falls squarely within the category of Who Cares. I don't look forward to seeing new sights or doing new things or going new places. Addison, I think of what you would look like--who you would be becoming now--with all your crawling and babbling and new rice cereal eating. I wonder if you'd have a mouthful of teeth like Calvin did at this age, and if your hair would be thin and fair--curly or straight. I can hardly take the teeter-totter of emotions I feel between trajedy and apathy; it's not a broad range of emotions, for sure, but the only ones I feel. The huge sense of loss that words cannot adequately describe versus the total apathy for what life has to offer. I teeter one way, then I teeter the other. Usually I force apathy because feeling anything is just too much. Out there in the world, I don't think they really know what's going on within me. It's all I can do sometimes to not shut down completely. The rest of our family needs me, after all; I probably need them, too. All I know is that without you here, having them here is the only thing that keeps me going day after day after empty day. I really thought 6 months would feel differently than it does. I thought it would feel less...horrible, I guess. But there is one thing I know for sure: I miss you and love you and wish you were here where you belong.


  1. Your last speaks volumes. Where she belongs, where he belongs. So many people try to fill the void in my heart with talk of how he is at rest and is peaceful now. I believe that somewhere he is and I am thankful, but it's not where he belongs. Addison belongs with her family and in your arms. Its not fair and I feel such a similar pain. I am so sorry for you, for us. Happy 6 months to Addison and her wonderful, brave mother.

  2. thinking of you, and addison, and calvin and chris today.

    i wish addison was there with you too.

  3. Taking time to remember you and your baby, Addison. I am sorry any of us have to go through this!

    I don't know if this fits, but keep hanging in there. One day at a time. That's all I can do sometimes - or really, one hour at a time somedays - just getting through the day. Getting through a day seems like nothing to some people, and to who I used to be, but now I know getting through the day can sometimes be a big accomplishment!

    I never imagined the loss of my daughter would change my life so profoundly, and affect me so deeply. But it has, and it does. I honor where you are at.

    Hugs to you.

  4. Happy Mother's Day Rebecca! I hope you and Calvin have a wonderful day together. I know today will be a tough one...sending thoughts and love your way.