We woke up this morning to a world of white. 4 or 5 cm of snow covered every surface, and we could hear the radio djs grumbling, too early, too early, on our alarm clock.
The snow suits me just fine.
I need a change of scenery. A winter wonderland will fit the bill. I could also use a couple of days of all-out blizzard, where the city shuts down and we wake from hibernation a day or two later and wonder where the cars are under the endless sea of white.
But, a couple of inches is a nice start.
It's been awhile since I've written of our BabyLand friends. My one and only attempt at visiting their baby was difficult and draning. The months have ticked by and I haven't tried again. And I don't feel guilty about it. I have given myself permission to take this in my own time; maybe some morning I'll wake up and feel like I want to visit. Maybe I won't. Whatever I do is up to me.
That's my new survival tactic: Do what I want, when I want to.
Whatever you have to do, right?
M and I were invited to a Halloween party Saturday night, hosted by the Babyland crew. We had no intentions of going, and we actually had a long-standing dinner reservation at a high end hotspot where we would enjoy a very expensive, very adult evening. It was great. Seven courses later we stumbled home, content. Not great for my weight loss efforts, but great for my mood!
Yesterday we spent most of the day with my in-laws, who indeed had gone to the Halloween party. Oh, you'd hardly even know there was a baby, she said. No one paid any attention to it.
I hear this all the time. Oh, there's no evidence of a baby over there. You'd be fine.
Sure, sure I'd be.
No one gets it. No one realizes that I'm. Just. Not. Ready.
I'm not going near the place over Christmas. The holidays are going to be hard enough without a living, breathing reminder of what Charlotte should be doing. How big she should be by now.
No, thank you. I'll stay home with my thoughts, and that will be difficult as it is.
2 comments:
Self preservation, especially during the holidays. It's the only way I got through last year.
Hang in there hun.
It's one of the things I find the most difficult to be okay with: how so many people cannot put themselves in our shoes, feel our pain, know what this feels like. The baby could be in another room, on the other end of the city and we would still know that he/she was there.
Do what you need to do to get through the holidays. Don't let anyone force you to do anything you just can't. Mourning a baby is hard. Having to do it in a world that would prefer to pretend this pain does not exist is tortuous.
(And my most heartfelt thanks for commenting on my blog.)
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