The bizarre dreams continue. I had one where all of my grammar school friends were mad at me because I got pregnant again, and another where M had cheated on me and didn't care that I was mad. I really wish I was better at interpreting my own dreams, these all just seem a bit crazy.
Finally caved yesterday and bought maternity jeans after my regular jeans stopped fitting over my hips. I have a pair of maternity jeans (a bit frayed, as I wore them hard) from my pregnancy with Gregory, but I couldn't bring myself to wear them. I was wearing them when we got in the car accident when I went into early labor, I was wearing them weeks later when he died, when we went to the hospital and found out he died, when I left the hospital. One part of me doesn't want to put them back on because they are his jeans and should stay a part of that pregnancy; another part of me doesn't want to wear them, even though I was desperate, because I'm afraid of jinxing this pregnancy. So Marc took me to ON and I found a snazzy pair of jeans that were only a little too baggy in the butt.
I also bought some new knitting stuff - I needed a few new sizes of double pointed needles and the Michael's by me only bothers to carry size 4 DPNs. We went to AC Moore and I expanded my set.
Went to the cemetery last week - Gregory's name has been added to the headstone. We buried him with my mother's father. The plot is meant to hold my grandparents, my mother's brother, and her sister. We weren't in any rush to add his name, and I said we'd add it down the road when another name was going to be added. My uncle Michael had been diagnosed with diabetes forever ago, and has lost his eyesight (and independence) a few years ago. He became really ill earlier this year, and long story short, rushed to the ER, lost consciousness, all of his organs were failing and he passed away one afternoon in early March. I never expected him to die before my grandmother (running theme here: no one expects to bury a child). I don't think I really accepted Michael's death until I saw his name on the headstone - I think I was still so wrapped up in and raw from Gregory's death, I just couldn't accept losing Michael as well. It's hit me really hard in the last couple of weeks. I miss him a lot. It's hard to imagine Thanksgiving or Christmas without him. It's tough going to visit my grandmother and him not being around. He was my dad stand-in (my father is not in my life, and hasn't been a regular player in almost 20 years) - Michael took me to my junior high graduation dinner, he took me to the father-daughter dances, he's the reason I love baseball the way I do. I find myself wanting to visit the cemetery as much for him as Gregory now. I'm starting to think the grief will never get easier - just as you start recovering from one death, the next one sucker punches you.
Finally caved yesterday and bought maternity jeans after my regular jeans stopped fitting over my hips. I have a pair of maternity jeans (a bit frayed, as I wore them hard) from my pregnancy with Gregory, but I couldn't bring myself to wear them. I was wearing them when we got in the car accident when I went into early labor, I was wearing them weeks later when he died, when we went to the hospital and found out he died, when I left the hospital. One part of me doesn't want to put them back on because they are his jeans and should stay a part of that pregnancy; another part of me doesn't want to wear them, even though I was desperate, because I'm afraid of jinxing this pregnancy. So Marc took me to ON and I found a snazzy pair of jeans that were only a little too baggy in the butt.
I also bought some new knitting stuff - I needed a few new sizes of double pointed needles and the Michael's by me only bothers to carry size 4 DPNs. We went to AC Moore and I expanded my set.
Went to the cemetery last week - Gregory's name has been added to the headstone. We buried him with my mother's father. The plot is meant to hold my grandparents, my mother's brother, and her sister. We weren't in any rush to add his name, and I said we'd add it down the road when another name was going to be added. My uncle Michael had been diagnosed with diabetes forever ago, and has lost his eyesight (and independence) a few years ago. He became really ill earlier this year, and long story short, rushed to the ER, lost consciousness, all of his organs were failing and he passed away one afternoon in early March. I never expected him to die before my grandmother (running theme here: no one expects to bury a child). I don't think I really accepted Michael's death until I saw his name on the headstone - I think I was still so wrapped up in and raw from Gregory's death, I just couldn't accept losing Michael as well. It's hit me really hard in the last couple of weeks. I miss him a lot. It's hard to imagine Thanksgiving or Christmas without him. It's tough going to visit my grandmother and him not being around. He was my dad stand-in (my father is not in my life, and hasn't been a regular player in almost 20 years) - Michael took me to my junior high graduation dinner, he took me to the father-daughter dances, he's the reason I love baseball the way I do. I find myself wanting to visit the cemetery as much for him as Gregory now. I'm starting to think the grief will never get easier - just as you start recovering from one death, the next one sucker punches you.
1 comment:
Congrats on buying new maternity clothes! I understand how you feel about the special jeans. I have a shirt I wore with Jimmy and I was wearing it the day he died. I can't bring myself to wear it, but weirdly I have rubbed it on my tummy...
I think that once you've had a loss, you feel other losses more deeply. I know that is the way I felt. Sort of like it is more proof that the universe is unfair. I wish you strength right now.
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