Yesterday I started to try to write about my birthday... The day I knew I was losing my son... And I realized- I cant do it... I cant type the words, the feelings...
I dont cry for him now... I still miss him like hell, but I don't cry myself to sleep anymore... I can look at his pic that I have framed and smile... A bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless... I look at Matt and I see parts of Chris... Chris had his daddy's wrists and hands... He was so lanky for a fetus that only measured in at 15.5w... He was 6in from head to foot... But he had my nose and jaw structure... My lips and muscle tone...
If I can do all of this and not bawl my eyes out, why cant I type my feelings down... I lived through the grief once already and came out on top, so what's stopping me...
Well, it turns out I'm not as 'at peace' as I thought I was... I don't know what to do really... I don't need all the extra anxiety and fear... But I realized something else too... I come to this board quite often... I may be able to smile at the thought of Chris but I'm not as healed as I thought I was...
A sobering revelation isn't it... It's also an unnerving one...
Why did I decide to do this... Wasn't I tortured enough when he died... And now I'm sitting here wanting to cry again...
I think I'm going to go for a walk... It sucks that I have no one close by to talk about this with...
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