I read other blogs about baby loss or parents who have lost children and it’s just so hard to relate. Bennett didn’t have a medical condition, he didn’t die of SIDS. The guilt equation would be different, but the end result would be the same I suppose.
Today just wasn’t a good day. I don’t know why, don’t know what triggered it, perhaps a lack of sleep, too much excitement on Saturday, but for whatever reason it just sucked. And now it’s late and I’m tired and I’m reading others blogs about baby loss and rainbow babies and it’s just a lot to take in. It’s still hard to remember sometimes that it actually happened to us, that Benny isn’t just asleep in the next room.
I remember once I had kids that I wasn’t able to read books about kids that got hurt or killed. My sister would laugh at me, but something about it always just seemed too close to home. If only I knew that I would be living it one day, that I would be the one writing about it, except it wouldn’t be fiction.
I feel as if I’m holding my breath again, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was nervous about Parker taking Darcy some place alone, imagining the worst when they were just running some errands. I don’t know why this started up again. Perhaps I shouldn’t read about what other people have gone through, it lends itself to my imagination. Driving has started to cause anxiety again out of nowhere.
I wonder if it is because some of the focus is off of Darcy. She seems happier now, not as stressed out. The night terrors have lessened as well as the emotional outbursts. We’ve been so focused on her pain since February that there has been little time to even think about ours.
I don’t want to go back though, to feel that awful all of the time. I mean, it was awful always being worried about Darcy, but that was something that I could work to help to change, I at least had some control. I need someone to come in and control this, take over and just make it right. It’s easier when the focus is on helping others rather than trying to help myself and deal with my own stuff.