Henry was born exactly one week ago at 11:13 a.m. at Sainte-Justine’s Hospital.
That’s about all I can say for today.
Some days, I feel like my heart is dying, and all I do is cry.
I miss my baby.
Rest in peace my angel.
Since his birth and death a week ago, I have:
- worn almost the same clothes every day
- not worn any makeup or jewelry
- not really spoken to any friends or family, and if I have, it’s been brief
- had friends and family clear out Henry’s room. All his stuff is in storage until I don’t know when, including all of my maternity clothes
- resisted smashing some pottery that is in the drying stage in my basement
- called Mount Royal cemetery to arrange the pickup of Henry’s ashes
- made a 6-week appointment with my OBGYN
- began working on finishing a knitted blanket I started years ago
- learned that I am experiencing both grief and trauma
- have only been out of the house three times
- started this blog
I try to make little goals for myself for the day. If I don’t achieve them, it doesn’t matter. Some days, it’s to take a bath (still haven’t gotten to that one yet, though I’ve taken a few showers, miraculously), other days, it’s to read one of the pamphlets the hospital gave us. Surprisingly, the only daily goal that I’ve been able to keep up is this blog, and to make sure my rabbits and cat are fed. I really don’t care about anything else right now.