This is the worst day so far for me - and for Ruth too I think. She and Chris are apart for the first time since the near miscarriage started - today the week anniversary of the last good day and the scary night. Its right that Chris in at a gaming convention with friends who love him and can comfort him. Part of me wants to run out and be with Ruth even though she's chosen to be alone, but she knows herself and I trust her boundaries and choices. I had a hard time with the way people wouldn't let me have sufficient solitude after Kerry died and I don't want to crowd her. But I know its hard, and I know she's dismembering the nursery and that tears me up. She's a real do it herself person with a flair for decorating and she'll do a super job of turning that room into something else altogether (for now) but she shouldn't have to be doing this - should be working harder on getting further on making the nursery the perfect nursery for the Friedling. I find myself irritable with my living grand children (Bob is at the park with the boys right now and K.K. is dancing - I'll get myself together before they come home for supper). I was feeling like the kids weren't visibly "sad enough" about the death of their almost cousin, which I knew was ridiculous even in the middle of feeling it. Of course they are sad enough - just aren''t showing it every minute because they are kids. I don't even show it every minute.
I just don't have much bounce today. I think my problem is that I've reached that point where I just want to be able to focus completely on loss - to read infant loss bogs on the internet for fifteen hours running and not talk to anybody - to wallow, and I really don't have time to do that. Maybe in the wee hours of the morning, three or four hours, not fifeen. everythings a compromise and right now I resent that a little. Until today I was sad but in a clear spiritual place where I accepted this loss as part of the human condition and just wanted more than anything to help Ruth and Chris get through it. Today I feel really raw, human and hurt. I remember this phase with other losses and it does pass. I know my mood will pass, and Ruth's and Chris's too. We abide. We survive. We will thrive again. It just sucks right now - for her and for me too.
Friends have been reminding me that "It's not fair" feelings are normal. I really hate to go there. It seems like a slippery slope toward expecting a just worls - which just isn't correct and is dangerous. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people all the time. But its good to be reminded to accept the transitory feelings and thoughts, even those I don't like and choose to keep.
Now I will gather my will and wash my face and fix some supper for my living grand children, who deserve the love and attention that at this moment I want only to give to my dead possibility of a grandchild and his/her grieving parents. Act of will. Act of will. Cook pasta.