I never thought that it would be so scary to leave the house.
I’m hearing and reading this is normal when grieving. One woman called it her “Fortress of Solitude.”
There are a lot of fears about leaving my fortress of solitude. Seeing pregnant women. Seeing babies. Seeing girls with their mothers. Not knowing whether people heard the news or didn’t. Answering questions about where my baby is. Being asked how many children I have. People asking “Hi, how are you?” as a greeting and not expecting the reply, “Pretty shitty, my baby died last week.” Having to make small talk about the weather or the traffic. Having to act normal.
I asked our grief counselor about it and she said don’t push it, it’s okay to hibernate for now. But I wonder if there’s ever going to be a time I’m ready for it. I wonder if my anxiety is making it worse than it actually is going to be. If the anticipation building in my mind is worse than the actual event.
I wonder how I’m ever going to walk by the infant room on my way to Ben’s classroom; I know I can’t have other people take my son to and from daycare forever. I wonder how long my mom can go to the grocery store for us.
The few friends and family members I have seen, I have trouble making eye contact with them. I don’t know what that’s about either, but it’s easier to talk about Lydie while looking at the floor or out the window. Maybe I’m afraid of the sympathy their eyes hold.
I had a dream the other night, and I was back in high school with two of my old friends. I was 16 or 17, and we were at the mall, going down the escalator. I saw a pregnant woman, and I felt such deep sadness and I knew at that moment the grief that was coming in my future. I knew I would always be incomplete.
I have avoided Facebook, besides my own page. I am not ready to see pictures of your babies or your pregnant bellies right now. Or what about the moms who complain about not getting enough sleep because of their baby? Do you know what I would give to not be getting enough sleep because of my baby right now? I thought I would be one of these moms.
How will I ever listen to other people talk about their problems when my daughter is dead? I worry that I will never function normally again.