Wandering in 2017

Not all who wander are lost…

…but I think I am. Lost.

We came home from the hospital Tuesday evening. Roughly two and a half days after Ivy was born. I will post her birth story in the following entry. But for now, this is about the time after it happened. There is this huge chasm in the timeline of my life now. There is time before Ivy. And there is now. After death.

That first evening home from the hospital I wandered. Slow steps around my house without purpose. Or, maybe there was an initial task at hand, but it was lost somewhere along the way. You see, not only were we prepared for a living baby in our home…but our Baby was birthed in my kitchen. Her presence physically existed there for only a moment, but her Spirit remains. But BOTH existed at different times. There. Where I find myself lingering a lot. Right on those very floorboards I birthed her. And right there our hopes and dreams for her died. Ivy’s eyes were closed, her expression peaceful. I knew she was gone even then, though I begged and pleaded and prayed for her breath. I find solace in not knowing until after birth, as I cannot imagine going through labor with that impending doom. Instead, it was a beautiful labor. In hindsight it makes me feel strong. I spent a majority of the time within myself, by myself. I spent the last 4 hours of labor standing, going through transition on my feet. Crouching to all fours to birth her.

RAWR.

Those are my badges. Badges adorning empty arms.

But Im grasping at whatever I can get.

Husband and I wandered a lot in the early days. Opening and closing cabinets without retrieving something from inside. Starting sentences without having a direction to finish. Coherent thought just isnt possible in the wake of a loss like this. My mind was (and still is) broken. From the initial adrenaline and shock of the delivery to the flood of emotion and tears and anger since…Ive been through the ringer. Im going through the ringer. Maxed out, my brain might take some time to recover. My heart…..might be a different story.

Eleven days of a hazy blur. It takes me a minute to remember the day of the week.

And still we meander. Physically and mentally. Its taken me long enough to try to write this entry, and the flow is as incoherent as my thoughts. Between the kids and the household chores, I feel like Im getting better at being productive here. But the outside world is so foreign. Grocery shopping. Appointments. Totally normal and mundane tasks as the world continues to exist that leave me feeling………stuck. Its as if Ive forgotten how to function when my mind is so consumed.

Last updated April 12, 2017