New Normal

I wish I could explain how I feel. It’s the hardest thing to describe. Part of me is heartbroken, wants to cry all the time and just become a hermit. Part of me is starting to return to normal life, and part of me feels like the whole thing was just a terrible dream that I have yet to wake up from. In all the pamphlets and things they gave us they tell you that you will have to find a new normal. I didn’t really understand what that meant until recently. I feel like life is back to normal except that now I am a different person. Everyday life continues just as it did before my son died, with chasing my toddler, doing housework, Ben gets up and goes to work every morning etc. Except now every morning when I wake up one of the first thoughts I have is I’m not pregnant anymore. My son died. It’s hard to explain, but it sets a mood for the whole day, and there isn’t anything I can do about it. Life continues to move, but I have this huge weight bearing down on me now at all times. I don’t feel normal. Life is returning to normal, but I am not nor will I probably ever be the same person I was before. It’s weird. You start explaining your life as before & after, it literally is life changing. I’ve never been depressed, I’ve always been a mostly upbeat person, but now, I guess this is what depression feels like. I don’t really know. I feel like life is back to normal but I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t feel like doing the things I used to enjoy. I haven’t watched Ellen since before this all happened, I haven’t played my games, I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t feel like doing anything. Is that depression or grief maybe both? I don’t know. I wouldn’t call myself depressed but I know that I am not the same person. I don’t know if that makes any sense. I feel sad, broken, angry, irritated, tired, sore, I could go on and on. The feelings are so overwhelming at times. I’ve been doing pretty good though. I went a whole day the other day without crying. I know it is ok to cry, but I’m so tired of crying.

It didn’t last long though, my little princess broke me. Ben and I have always tried to be as honest as we can with Zenavieve. We try to tell her what things are when she asks, and not baby talk too much, explain things to her as best we can even if she doesn’t fully understand. The books the hospital gave us recommended that as well, to tell your young children the truth about what happened, otherwise they could get scared and not understand, like if you say the dead person is sleeping it could make them afraid to go to sleep again, or if you say the angels took him, it could make them scared that angels will come take them too, etc. She’s so smart though and she knew that mommy and daddy weren’t ok and that something was wrong. So the day we came home from the hospital, once we were alone as a family, with tears in our eyes we told Zenna, “remember the baby we told you was in mommys tummy, well he died, he wasn’t as big and strong as you and he didn’t get to come home with us like you did”. We’ve said it a few more times since then, trying to help her understand when she asks why mommy or daddy is crying or sad. We try to explain it to her as honestly as we can for a 2 year old which is heartbreaking in and of itself. I was never actually sure if she understood what we were telling her, but that daughter of mine is so stinkin smart. We were laying in bed yesterday morning just her and I after Ben had went to work and she accidentally kicked my stomach, I said please don’t kick mommy’s tummy it hurts remember and I started to tell her again.. remember how mommy and daddy told you there was a baby is mommy’s tummy, and before I could even finish in her little tiny voice she said “baby died”. I lost it. The tears starting coming and I said yep the baby died. Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear those words come out of a two-year-old’s mouth? It was gut wrenching. She shouldn’t have to understand. She shouldn’t have be the sweetheart she is, asking me if I’m ok every time I start crying. She shouldn’t have to see her mommy and daddy so sad. She shouldn’t have to be learning to deal with things like this at such a young age.

Then this morning I stumbled across our ultrasound video that we got the day we found out he was a boy and for some reason I decided to watch it and I broke again. As I’m sitting here watching his little heart beat, and watching him move around even just a little I realized that was the only video I was ever going to have, this unclear grainy ultrasound is the only thing I have the actually shows him moving, shows that he actually was alive! I cried again. I’ve been crying since. My poor little angel. He wasn’t just a lost pregnancy. He wasn’t a miscarriage, (though I’m sure those can be just as heartbreaking), he wasn’t just a stillborn. He was ALIVE. He moved. He breathed(as much as they can in the womb). He lived. He existed. He was born. He was a baby. He was my baby. I held him in my arms and then I had to let him go. I wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on my worst enemy, but I wish more people understood. I wish people could understand that life will never be “normal” again. I wish they understood, why I don’t feel like doing things. Even little things. Even necessary things. I made dinner the other night, I didn’t want to. It’s the first time I’ve actually cooked dinner other than throwing something in the oven that someone else made, since we came home from the hospital. As soon as we sat down to eat it I wanted to cry. The thoughts that started pouring in my head were too much. Renix will never get to sit down at the table with us and eat dinner. I will never get to feed him any meal. I will never to get change his diaper, I will never get to rock him to sleep. I will never get to do any of the things I should be doing with my son. And as easy as that, something as simple as sitting down to eat the dinner I made, I’m back to square one, heartbroken and crying. I guess the best I can do is continue the way I am and just continue to take one day at a time, one moment at a time, and continue to struggle to try to find my new normal.

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