I’ve been in a strange place these past couple of weeks. I am surviving, and even doing okay, but it still feels like a dark shadow lingers over much of my life. I’m sure that the time of year isn’t helping… we haven’t seen the sun (aside from one day, I think) in over a month. It’s been so cloudy, gray, and drab, and we’re all so over it. It’s hard to keep one’s spirits up when everything is so dreary, but to have grief sitting on top of that too adds its own kind of darkness. I have been in a funk, and though I’m doing my best to take measures to stay above it, I seem to keep getting buried under it all anyway. It is so frustrating to exist this way. I can’t help but wonder how long I will live like this, in the fog of depression and sadness. The way it looks and feels now, it will be forever. The way I miss Lucy, it will be for all eternity. I am in pieces, and there’s no superglue in sight.

I finally made myself take Lucy’s Christmas tree down today. Yes, it is January 29, and I just took the Christmas tree down. It was hard to make myself do it because it was something meant to honor Lucy, but I managed. I tucked her ornaments safely away, and put a couple of special ones on the shelf with her urn. I put the dragonfly and her “L” monogram next to her. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I wrapped the decorations up, if when I see them again, our life will look and be different than it is now. Will there be more that we’re looking forward to or experiencing? Or will it be the same? The thought of it being the same is actually rather scary, because I feel like I am simply existing and surviving right now. Does it get any easier? I don’t know.

There really is nothing uplifting for me to report with this entry, I’m afraid. There continues to be disappointment when it comes to possibly expanding our family, which is very discouraging. I think it will happen someday, but until then, it is so hard to be in this place. My frustration grows larger each day. I am losing hope with a lot of things lately, and I don’t know if I can put a positive spin on anything right now. I am allergic to Hope. No, literally, I am allergic to hope! I love essential oils, and haven’t worn perfume since I got pregnant with Lucy, so sometimes I’ll just dab a little spot of it on, just for a pleasant scent, and because it soothes me too. So, I thought I’d do that with a synergy blend titled “Hope”. Bad move- turns out, my skin had an allergic reaction to it. It seems too symbolic right now; I’m actually allergic to hope! Ugh. I want to let hope win over my fear, but when dumb stuff like that happens, I have to wonder what the universe is trying to tell me. Ridiculous, I know, but my moods lately have me in a pretty dark place. I am trying not to lose hope, but something needs to change soon or my weak grip on it is going to loosen even more.

I finally did have a crying spell in front of my students last week. That was just peachy, and of course I couldn’t leave the room for some privacy because I had 26 kids in there that I was responsible for. Lovely to be trapped in a room with your grief along with so many witnesses. The trigger was an all-staff email from a co-worker (I’ve only met her once actually; I was gone for the first marking period and she is new this year)… she began the email by thanking the staff for their support of her while she’s been having pregnancy complications. It was very sincere, and she was just giving us all an update on her well-being. She went on to say that she was in pre-term labor, but the docs said baby is great and it will be a short stay in the NICU. Pictures to follow. I, of course, want her baby to be okay, I want ALL babies to be okay. But, it was a trigger. Her baby is premature, but the docs all know and they also know what to expect. They can ensure her sweet baby’s survival. Now, obviously I know there are no guarantees on anything in this life, but it’s so likely that her baby will make it just fine, even though he or she is not quite physically ready for the world. Our Lucy was perfectly healthy and physically ready for the world, but she ended up not being okay. That thought right there was what started the tears, and once they started, I couldn’t stop them. Luckily, it was exam week, and the students were studying their review guide which at least meant that I wasn’t ‘on stage’. I wasn’t sobbing loudly or anything, but the tears just kept flowing. I was able to sort of hide at my desk and keep it as isolated as possible, but it was still pretty awful. Sometimes, things just pop up out of nowhere in the places we least expect them and take us by surprise. Like a work email. It got to Chris too, and we both had a bit of a rough time with it. Those kinds of things make the grief feel so overwhelming, and always when I get to the point where I’m almost okay.

I continue to try to find signs of Lucy where and when I can. It’s the thing that makes my days better. Sometimes it’s just the most subtle, coincidental thing. Today, I was vacuuming our bedroom and I looked down on the carpet, and the cord had twisted itself into the most perfect cursive “L”. I have been aching for my Lucy, and then, just like that, there was a little piece of her name, right in front of me. Those little bits and pieces might seem like nothing to anyone else, but they feel like a moment of comfort delivered to me by my sweet Lucy girl. I’ll take what precious little I can get these days.

“L” for Lucy, for love…