Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Sprouting and withering

I planted a cherry tree out in the yard. I wanted to get an apple tree, but Adrien and I debated, and decided the cherry tree would be best.
It stands all alone in the yard, the reminder for a life that stopped before it ever started.

I keep finding myself craning my head out the upstairs windows just to catch a glimpse of the top of it. Next year it will grow even taller, then I won't have to crane my neck out so far.

It's bad when I'm in the kitchen because it's straight out the window, and I just stand there sipping my beverage, or cooking... and I stare out into the yard... right at the tree, and zone out.

I've been distracting myself...
I lost my baby at the beginning of the month, and now my grandmother is terminal. They think that she's only got a few days left... she fell asleep yesterday and hasn't actually woke up since. I hope that she goes peacefully, she's lived a long life... she's still alive, but I can't talk to her, can't hear her voice. My heart aches.

How much can a person lose in one month?

I feel selfish for feeling as if my world is crashing down when my grandmother is suffering, and my baby is gone... but I am suffering too. I feel as if I have lost so much in the last few weeks.

I keep asking myself,

What else am I going to lose? Before this month is over what else will be taken from me?

I talked to my mother yesterday to tell her that my father's mother is dying. My mother changed the subject, after saying that my grandmother lived a long full life, to inform me that she had broken her foot and her car broke down (or something)... and she told me on the phone, "It's been a bad month for me. Well, when it rains it pours."
As if I didn't know that. How does that even compare to my baby dying, and my Grandmother fading fast? How does a broken car and foot compare to death?

Changing the subject:
As I said, I have been distracting myself. I am fixing some things around the house, I am stripping the years of built up paint off the trim, I'm trying to fix some things up before I start TTC again next month.

I find the easiest way to take my mind off of things is to work with my hands.
Not academia, not writing, not painting even... but working with my hands. Crafts, repairs, yard work... something that takes focus, hands on... it allows me to work through the tears and calm my mind. I still cry at least once a day, but the sharp empty pain is getting less the more I distract myself and allow myself to cry.

And so I have been working my body raw since two... three? days ago.
I've lost track fo the days.

What do the days mean to me anymore?
I'm judging them by weekends.

This coming weekend my baby would have been 8 gestational weeks if it had lived.
This Sunday is 3 weeks since I lost my baby.
Time lost that I can't really remember... it's all a blur. A gigantic blur.
It's lost time.

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