Wednesday, April 28, 2010
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.