I started the day feeling “okay.” Like I could feel “normal” again. Then I ventured out into the world of Mother’s Day Out, Memphis driving, grocery shopping.. Suddenly a lost hair bow at mother’s day out is a tragedy. I say words that sound so strange, so petty…but I can’t explain what it going on in my head. It sounds crazy. That throwing away a hair bow that I could have fixed reminds me of loss, of things out of my control, of wanting Violet BACK. It is all I can do to keep from a hysterical fit walking through the aisle at Whole Foods. The nice hippie man asks if I want an ice pack for my cold bag and I nearly hyperventilate. I shake my head no, avoiding eye contact – “Don’t you know?!” I want to yell – “Nothing matters! Ice packs, food, hair bows…none of it matters!!”
I hurry to the car, tears streaming, not caring at all that the bags I’ve hastily slung over my shoulders are WAY too heavy for my postpartum body. In the driver’s seat, hoping no one can see me, wishing desperately someone would see me and ask what’s wrong. I panic in a moment where I can’t remember what I did with Sofia. She’s not in her car seat. I remembered dropping her off at school like a vague memory. I realize everything is not okay. Today is not my day to be normal. Then I remember the date – June 15th. It’s been one month since she died. I know that for the rest of my lifetime will be marked as BV and AV – before Violet and after Violet.
My feelings are so confusing – all over the place, hard to describe, hard to capture, fleeting so even if I manage one it’s too late…another emotion is already in it’s place. I feel desperate for relief. Someone…just hold this hurt for a day, and hour, a minute.