Maybe it’s the new month, the new year, the thought of going back to work tomorrow, the bad dream I had last night, my inability to sleep past 4am, the whole time thing, or what, but I feel left behind somehow today. Things just aren’t right (well, when are they ever, really?) My anxiety is high, tears are quick, and I feel alone, discouraged, and heartsick. I had a really weird dream last night, and I’ll spare the reader all of the details, but in it, I was yelling (well, screaming hysterically rather) at a man I didn’t know, “My baby died! Don’t you know that my baby died?! Don’t you care?? Doesn’t anyone care??” That part of it was very vivid and I woke up with a start, covered in sweat, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind was racing, and I’ve been kind of a mess ever since. In the middle of a crying spell today, Chris sat next to me to comfort me, and I blubbered that I don’t really even know what’s wrong with me, other than the obvious. It’s not a special day or a milestone day or anything, but everything feels terribly wrong. It’s just a grief wave and the tide is in. After chatting for a few minutes, something hit me- the rest of the world has moved on. Chris and I are the only ones left truly standing in this grief, except for maybe my mom and his parents. Everyone else has moved on, and Lucy is now a sad memory. And the worst part is, that’s what is supposed to happen. Time heals the wounds of the onlookers, but the characters in the tragedy are left behind in their misery. Time will not heal us in this case, but it will heal everyone else. I know that many people were truly impacted by Lucy’s death, and in some ways still are, but they get to move on. They’re supposed to move on. Everyone else we know has already gotten to return to their normal lives because it didn’t happen to them. I don’t begrudge anyone that, not at all. But it makes me feel even more alone. Even more vulnerable, even more desperate to cling to my baby’s memory. And worse yet, it feels as though no one else understands how raw the pain still is, that oftentimes, I am anything but okay. And that sometimes, people say truly hurtful things without even knowing it, because I seem ‘okay’ or look ‘normal’. It breaks my heart. No one truly could understand this unless it happened to them too. (I must say that I would still rather Chris and I be standing alone in this than to have anyone in our lives have to go through this hell too in order to understand.) It’s such a lonely, desolate place to be. I am also beginning to find that a divide is starting to form between me and some of the people I treasure; it’s getting harder for me to relate to their happiness and good fortune, and harder for them to relate to my sadness and loss. It leaves me feeling exhausted and even more heartbroken. And none of it is anyone’s fault- not mine, not theirs, it’s no one’s fault. It’s just the way it is as the passage of time continues. I don’t know why this takes me by surprise today… I mean, what did I expect? Of course everyone else was going to move on. That’s life. It’s like Ralph Waldo Emerson stated, “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” He was right, it goes on indeed whether you think it’s possible or not, whether you’re ready or not. Reality is a cruel, harsh thing.

I miss her.