Thursday, February 10, 2011

Thanksgiving of pain

God, I hurt so badly.  I hurt physically and emotionally.  I think that any second the pain will kill me.  It is wierd.  When I DO finally fall asleep, my eyes and head aching, I have vivid dreams of them making a mistake and my son is crying for me,  I can hear it.  When I wake up, the waves of pain hit me and I remember you are gone.  I will never hold you and smell your baby smell,  or see you smile or hit your milestones.  How can God be so cruel.  I do not want to get out of bed at all.  I have to though.  We are having thanksgiving since Will's family is all here.  I do not want to and Will feels the same.  I am clinging to Will,  he is the only person who knows my pain.  We are broken people floating around in a sea of pain.  What am I supposed to do now?  My breasts hurt.  I am full of milk and that is a painful reminder. 
   Finally the family gathers at our house and starts to cook dinner.  Mom R is wonderful, she and my sister in law Christina are taking care of everything.  My nieces and nephews are chattering away and give me drawings for Robert.  They talk about him as if he is there.  That is their faith.  He is just in a better place.  I wish so hard I had that faith right now.  But I am angry at God.  If he can take my son, he is not a just God.  Secretly I am angry at my sister in law too.  She HAS her children, to love and to hold and watch grow.  Maybe not angry, but jealous.  The pain is so unrelenting.  It is like being in labor and it won't stop.  It hurts more than I can stand.  For the first time in my life I want to die.  Really want to die.  If I was not so Catholic, I would do it.  Find a way to end the pain.  Maybe the pain will just kill me instead.  I have a constant migraine from the crying and even though I am not actively crying tears continue to leak from my eyes without me even participating.  Whenever my mind wanders to your death I start really sobbing and cannot stop. 
     At dinner I am quiet and so is Will.  The rest of the family is chattering.  My nephew launches himself and hits me in the chest and my breasts hurt so bad.  Christine leans over and tells me I am leaking milk.  I look down and see the evidence on my shirt.  Embarrassed I run to my room and change and put some sanitary napkins in my bra to soak up any leaking.  I don't even want to go back out there.  The rest of the day passes in a painful haze and I only remember that when we all said what we were thankful for, I said I was thankful for Robert.  I was not really,  I was angry about Robert.  Very angry...I wanted to scream and yell and strike something ...or someone.

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