I still cry. Mostly silently, as nobody cares what's going on. I shouldn't put it that way. There are some who care. They care deeply. They know the pain and they are there for those random vents that make absolutely no sense. I found people I didn't know would care, did. Even if they never went through anything like this, they let me talk and cry.
Then there is the rest of people, they either don't know what to say, or don't like anything negative in their lives and thus avoid you like you have a disease they can catch. There are those who think you should get over this within a day or two. I mean, I only just found out, and we didn't want any more right?
Wrong. A child is a blessing, no matter how unexpected. I was just getting over the shock of being pregnant and then getting really excited when the rug was ripped out from under me.
And there are those who ask almost daily, "how are you doing?" I never disliked that question so much in my life. I would avoid phone calls, emails, pm messages, knowing what question I'd have to hear or see before anything else only made me nauseous. I came to understand their meaning was well, I also learned that most just ask to make themselves feel better, that they showed they cared. But their quick changing of the subject only showed me they didn't want the real answer. They wanted me to put it all in a box and move on with life as if nothing happened. The people I found most comfort in were those who didn't ask how I was doing every time they spoke to me. Instead, they just let me know they are there for me. In return I messaged the weirdest thoughts or just repeat that life isn't fair and they'd respond in some manner. But I don't have to answer the "how are you doing?" question. I can only speak for myself, but my guess at this point is that common responses are:
"I have no bloody clue how I'm doing."
"I just lost my baby, how the hell do you think I am doing?"
"I had to convince myself that my children really need me. So I dragged my ass out of bed so my kids continue to think their lives are awesome sauce."
"I didn't sleep last night because I'm still dreaming some mad man has my baby and won't give him back. But he's giving everyone else their babies."
"There are some days I cannot go on Facebook because seeing everyone else's baby bumps, ultra sounds, and newborns in my newsfeed is like a freshly heated branding iron on my busted heart."
Some days I feel fine and am doing well and yet people tell me I look or sound sad. In reality, how I'm doing, is keeping me so busy I have no time to worry about how I'm not doing. Because if I think about how I'm doing, I will crumble into a pile of human flesh and waterworks. The other moments of some days, those responses up top are a lot of what I'm feeling.
So this is now my new normal. I cry a lot and mostly alone. I laugh really long and hard with my children here with me. I find myself smiling at lot more and at peace emotionally with things I never used to be. I spend more time with my children and working extra hard to find a balance between my wants and being a present mom and wife. The busy nature of this balance, while it has me exhausted most days, leaves me feeling more put together than I am. I have been making sure I get healthy feel good things in, like regular exercise and can most days leave out the emotional eating. I message a good friend with the most angry thoughts when I hit a sad moment. I also message the broken nature of my heart that hurts with such a fire my whole body aches. I message how I still desperately want my baby back. I live with guilt and blame. I pray every night that God will take care of Emmitt until I get there. To let him know I love him. This brings me peace. Knowing that I'll get to see him one day. I take more moments out just to hug my husband or hold his hand. I don't rush my kids away when they want a hug or just cuddle. (unless I'm cooking. don't want to burn the house down.) I'm learning to work through my emotions. Learning how I feel when frustrated, sad, okay, etc. where in the past I didn't work on anything but anger. As sad as I am, I spend less time depressed and more time happier than I once was. And I still have anxiety and still freeze at the thought of leaving my house or looking for work.
I'm discovering it won't all change over night. I don't know if this portion of my heart that hold's Emmitt's name will ever heal even just a little. I just know this is my new normal and it's not all tears and heartache, but it's okay to have moments that are.