Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

I am sick of being overly sensitized to everything. Of plunging into sadness with no control, because of an offhand comment, a visual image, a song on the radio. I am just ready to wake up and feel like myself again.

What made me cry today?

Lou carelessly commented to Shea, who spent a rollicking good time playing with his Papa this morning, "It's nice to be the only grandchild!" I fled weeping into the kitchen.

My students' term papers were due yesterday. Every email included well wishes for me and my new baby. Every one was like a burning brand to my heart.

Facebook suddenly seems filled with happy baby pictures. I really hate that the sight of babies, which should be nothing but a source of joy, makes me so very, very sorry for myself now.

Getting ready to go out to the Nats game, I thought about the picture I'd planned to take at our baby's first game - mirroring a similar picture I took with Shea at a few weeks old - I thought I would frame them together. I sobbed on the floor, having deliberately shattered a plastic magazine holder I was planning to dispose of anyways. Breaking it actually made me feel better, but I decided breaking my own possessions is probably not the healthiest or most affordable solution for my sadness.

The song, "Ain't no sunshine" has been stuck in my head since Harper died, since that phrase sort of fits my mood perfectly. Sting's acoustic rendition came on the radio today and sent me spiraling into a host of memories of the day Harper died. Was it really less than a week ago?

The Nats game was the hardest of all. We walked the exact same route we walked on Opening Day, when I was pregnant and looking forward to our baby's arrival. We passed no less than 4 pregnant women and several newborn babies along the way. Everyone's shirt read "Harper." Numbness set in.

"Why did Harper go away?" Shea asked on the way home.

"When people die," I told him, "they go away, and they don't come back. We don't see them anymore."

"Oh," he said, thinking about it. "Why?"

An excellent question,

I am not, by nature, a sad person. I'm cheerful. I look to the positive. I don't see the point in dwelling. It is driving me absolutely nuts to be this sad at any given moment. To not have control over my emotions.

It's OK to let yourself be sad, everyone says. It takes time.

Has it really only been six days?