Yesterdays and tomorrows.

Yesterday Lucy would have been two months old. I’m really struggling with the idea that a little over a week ago I held our little girl in my arms, and now I’ll never hold that sweet baby again. It seems so unreal. I’m starting to feel like I’m losing my mind; at any given time, I either feel intense pain or nothing. During the times that I feel nothing, I can function, but I have a really hard time controlling myself. I’m not very pleasant company at all right now – I’m scattered, irritable, and can’t seem to focus on anything. Everything seems disjointed, and the smallest things bring me to tears. I’m lucky to have an incredibly supportive and understanding family, and a wonderful husband who is doing his best, just as I am.

I’m writing this for two reasons: because it’s useful for me to try to talk about it – it helps to put things in perspective – and also so that any other grieving parent who finds their way here knows that they’re not alone in these bizarre, difficult feelings. In the future, when things settle down a bit, I plan to split this blog into two parts, so that our experience with Lucy has its own dedicated section. Because I need to keep talking about her, and about my life without her, but I realize that eventually I’ll have to start thinking about other things again (and that some people will get tired of reading about how sad I am). My original 30 before 30 list of goals seems like a good place to start. Getting back to all the things that interested me before Lucy came seems wrong right now, and thinking about writing a non-Lucy blog post makes me feel guilty. But I guess it’s not really that I’m just going back to life the way it was before she came to us, because she’ll always be with me in everything that I do. It feels like she’s as much a part of me now as she was when she started life inside me.

Every night, before I go to sleep, I hope that I will dream about my little Lucy Anne. Until last night, I never did. Last night, though, I dreamed that she had been moved to another place, and when I opened the door, there was Lucy, healthy and happy in her crib. I sat down while David reached in and picked her up, then he put her in my arms. I held her in my dream, marveling at the beauty of her sleeping face, until I woke up this morning. I hope I never stop dreaming about her.