It hurts so very, very much, this loss of someone I didn't even know yet. My body is still sharing his space, but he's very much gone. Today is better than the shock of yesterday. I feel more at peace but know there is a long road ahead.
I have post-partum depression quite badly after the birth of my children, starting with #3. I take meds that are so helpful and receive therapy when it's very bad.
When I was so sick after #3 (RooBoo) was born, I was advised to check into the hospital or go be cared for by someone capable. I chose to spend the two weeks it took for my meds to kick in staying with my mother-in-law. She cared for me and all my children while I recovered. After the birth of TheBoy (#4), she came and spent a week with me, helping me settle into my own house.
So now, when the hurting is so bad, when the anxiety is ramping up, when I can't bear to be away from home without nearly going out of my skin, my blessed mother-in-law will have us stay again. She will love and care for me as if I were her own child and not the stranger who married her last son.
We had planned to visit next week already. The kids enjoy spending a week with Gramma and Grampa attending vacation bible school each summer. But this time, we're all staying.
Hubbers. He is hurting, too. I feel such sorrow at his pain, wishing I could ease it. He is here for me, just to hold me, whenever I need. We've spent much of the past two days telling each other of our love, and how it will be okay. He needs to spend some time at Gramma's house, too, soaking up her loving reassurance.
I had prepared a number of posts for the week we were to be gone, and will post them daily. They're my normal, hopeful self.
Hubbers and I will heal, in time. There may even be another baby somewhere waiting for us. Whatever comes, our little one will be looking down from heaven, awaiting OUR arrival.