Dark memories. I woke up yesterday, went outside with the dog and started reliving delivery. The weather was warm, I was in my pj's and I was just sitting there. "I can't do this" rang through my head. The feelings, the contractions, the fear all came rushing back. Yesterday was no special date, it was no special time of the year, well maybe it was. Who knows what would have been. Maybe, just maybe if William would have stayed with us I would have delivered him yesterday. His due date was the 29th of this month but I always felt like he'd come early. Just not that early. Maybe my impending trip is what brings about the resurfacing of all of those days.
I leave in five days for DC. I will be attending support group training, I will listen to lectures and statistics and what to do's and what not to do's. I will be surrounded by health care proffesionals, some who may be cold. My job, to lighten their hearts to the likes of me, to the likes of us, who have lost our children. My other job, to try to get my legislators to pass some bills that pertain to stillbirth. Maybe, just maybe the stress of all of this is bringing about the bad memories. I want the good ones, the one where I felt him move, the ones where I held him, slept and woke up to him being there, no one took him from me, he was still there. I don't want the delivery, the moments where he wasn't with me, the one when I left him behind, or when I picked up his ashes and brought him home in a bag.
This is the grief roller coaster and I am on a down swing. Hopefully, it will come to pass by this weekend. Hopefully, I can hold myself together long enough to get through the symposium. Hopefully, I can talk about my son and smile.