I can't pick up new nausea meds for 3 more days, so I'm reduced back to the state of disaster I was before that lovely prescription. With it, I just feel like throwing up, and without it I literally throw up. A lot. I just had a nice 2am surprise. I was not this sick with Lyra. But even with that grumbling, I see it as an indication that something is still going as it should. Hopefully.
Unable to go back to sleep, I'm now rambling. Still not back into an art routine. Not even close. My energy levels have been so low, and my brain feels mushy and uncreative.
On a mostly daily basis I still wonder why Lyra died. Why the abruption happened. Why my body failed not only myself, but my firstborn. I carried her with love, and did everything I was supposed to. But she still died. The abruption seemed to happen for no reason. No pain, no indication. No nothing. Just death.
How am I supposed to think this time will be different? I have this stupid notion that if we can make it til next week, I'll be able to breathe easier. But I won't. I have these milestones...make it to 12 weeks, then 20, then 30, and if we can pass Lyra's death week, then maybe we can bring this one home. I feel like I have to have increments of hope, or else I'll go mad.
I want a guarantee. I want the naive concept that when I announce to people that we'll be having a baby in early February, that I actually believe it. That there are no "if's" or "maybe's" or worried glances.
Yet, we still plan like we'll bring this one home. We've figured out where we'll put a little mini crib in our tiny apartment. And we were foolish enough to buy something for this little one already. Isn't that naivety on some level? Or maybe arrogance? That enough bad has happened to us, and surely it can't happen again?
The "logical" side of my brain screams this one will die too, while it battles with the hopeful side of my brain that just hopes it will be different this time.
I need to visit Lyra's grave again. I missed June because of how sick I was. A 2 hour round trip didn't sound so good earlier on with the instability of my stomach. Then I feel guilty because I haven't been there in a long while...To tend to the overgrowing grass and dirt that piles up. To bring "fresh" fake flowers and check on her tiger. I don't know that anyone else ever visits her. We know several people who live in that town, but I don't know if they visit. There's no counter like on a blog to show how many visitors she's had. For all I know, we're the only one's. And that thought makes me very sad. It's rather silly to think that others would be so concerned with it though. I mean, really. Memorial day, and maybe birthdays are the standard for obligatory attendance to a grave. I'm just sensitive because I'm the mom, and this is all I can do to "take care" of her.
I know this blog has tanked. It was supposed to be mainly my art. Not so much rambling. I hope to get back up on the horse again here soon, so to speak.
Thank you for your continued encouragement and support. I've been reading everyone's blogs, but not commenting as much as of late. I lurk.