Tuesday, 28 February 2012


In all honesty, I probably haven't been in the best head space for the past few weeks.  I guess the emotional anaesthetic has finally worn off, and the pain of losing Poppy threatened to overwhelm me.  So I've just been going through the motions and losing it completely quite regularly. 

I think I've hit anger.  I'm just so pissed off.  I'm pissed off that we worked so hard to get pregnant with Poppy and then didn't get to keep her.  I'm pissed off that I'm currently being, at best, a mediocre mother and an even worse wife.  I'm pissed off that my life that I loved, the life I couldn't wait to include Poppy into, is now a barren wasteland of hopelessness, grief and sadness. 

On Thursday I smashed a bowl.  Well, two actually.  Because I was so angry and frustrated at everything.  I scared the bejesus out of Xav, and it was totally unfair to do that.  But I guess I realised that I am entitled to be mighty peeved at the world.  I need to accept the anger instead of trying to keep it down.  The frailness of the calm exterior is becoming evident, and it's time to release some of the pressure.  Those two bowls (annoyingly enough, I liked them a lot) are the victims of my healing.  I hope they are the only ones.

I realised today that I am a bit better than I was even last week.  I was wandering around Highpoint doing some shopping and passed a little baby in a capsule, being carried by a harried looking new mum.  The baby was about the age Poppy should be.  This vision has managed to send me into full fledged panic attacked quite regularly as recently as last Thursday at the supermarket.  But I looked at this cutie and I smiled at her.  It still hurt, but I could still breath, I was still standing.  Wow. 

On the way home, I was concentrating so hard on getting home in time for school pick up, that I accidentally look the route past Baby Buntings.  Baby Buntings used to be my most favourite store.  I could spend hours in there.  But I connect those days with being pregnant with Poppy, and I just can't look at the place anymore.  I realised about a block before the store that I couldn't avoid it.  It might seem silly to avoid even driving past a store, but we do what we do to cope.  "Oh, God..." I thought as it came into view.  A fleeting thought of popping in to have a look popped into my head.  And I didn't spontaneously burst into tears at the thought.  I thought how much I miss not buying baby things.  Wow again.  No panic.

So I guess accepting my grieving has helped me not be so afraid of it.  I am not OK, but why should I be.  My sweet baby is still in heaven.  But I am getting better, something I was sure couldn't possibly happen.  Poppy is with me in the thousand thoughts I have of her every day.  In my wishes for us all to get better at life without her.  In my dreams for the future and having a new little brother or sister for Poppy and Xavier. In being the best that I can be at any time, but not more than I can be. 

I guess in acceptance, my healing has begun.

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