So yesterday, I did something I haven't been ready to do before. It's strange to reminisce upon all the emotions connected to this event that I've felt over the last year and a half. Before I got home from the hospital after having Tesslee, Mike did a sweep of our house, hiding things that might be triggers, and mentioned thinking about taking down the crib and changing table that was waiting in our room. I'm glad he didn't touch them, though. I wasn't ready for that yet. That was Tesslee's sacred space in our house that was reserved for her. It's been in my room ever since, and then for a brief time I also moved forward and pictured Vick laying in it. People have asked me if it's hard to see that every time I walk in my room to see that, but for the most part it hasn't been. I've needed it there.
I can tell I'm healing because yesterday we took down the crib. It was hard!!!!!!!!!! It hurt so much! I was grumpy all day and night. I was so mad that my childbearing ended that way. I'm jealous of the women who never have to know this pain. Why do I? It should not exist. I'm also jealous of all the women out there who end their childbearing raising their babies and saying goodbye to each stage the way it should be done. The women who are allowed to say goodbye to that stage the way they imagined. I'm mad at myself for not savoring every single minute of Ellee's babyhood and hanging onto the lasts. I'm really struggling with this. I packed everything up. I didn't want to see anything. I gave away the baby books, the baby toys, the clothes, broke down the crib and changing table and let my heart bleed for my babies who wouldn't use them.
I took Jeff to football practice and sat and sewed a Keepsake Envelope just to keep my hands moving. When that level of emotional pain surfaces I have to zone in on something and keep my hands busy or it hurts too much. I pricked my finger with the needle and noticed how good it felt to feel sharp, surface pain. It was a really hard day!!! This falls into the category of unspeakable pains there are no words for.
I'm glad I am moving forward . I'm glad I have healed enough to be able to take down the crib and rid my house of baby items. It feels good. And it is proof before my eyes of my slow but sure healing. It shows I have entered a new stage of the grief process: Acceptance. I am still lingering in the anger phase with some things, but it feels good to enter something new.
I'm glad I was strong enough to have meaningless conversations and smile and carry on while my heart was bleeding. But at some point I would love to stop secretly lying. I would love to be understood! I would love to feel comfortable enough with anyone that I could tell them exactly what my heart is feeling and know they won't be freaked out or judge me for something they don't understand. And....I would've loved for my youngest two to have used the crib that was waiting patiently for them for so long.
Or would I have? If I had my babies with me I would've never known this pain or exactly how to truly savor those moments.
