So, I had a root canal done yesterday. I've been dreading it for weeks, though it really needed to be done. Once I got there, I realized instantly how long I've been out of the 'real' world. People rushing around, appointments, phones ringing, hustle and bustle. I think this was part of what I was dreading, the demands placed upon me to be in a certain place, at a certain time... Yet, once I got used to so much frenzy (and yes, it was actually quite frenzied, even at the dentist's!) , I actually kind of enjoyed it a bit. There was a sense of order and purpose to it all. Something I haven't felt in quite a while. A refreshing change from my typical anomic existence, as of late. It was strangely comforting, and reassuring. I am still technically on 'mat leave', so I have lots of spare time, and not much to fill it with. I don't think I want to reenter the world of professionally employed, just yet, because there is still the issue of Evan and child care, but I think once we move, I may look into some kind of part-time volunteer work. Who knows what, but probably not something with kids, which is a bit scary, because it's all I've ever done, in one capacity or another.
Last week was really tough. I don't know what, if anything, sparked it, but it was a few days there where I felt very low. It's the kind of day that I know is going to suck as soon as I wake up. Before I even get out of bed. There's a real "who cares" feeling to everything, and an inability to give a shit about anything, let alone pretend for the sake of others. I know that makes it hard on Tim, that some days I can't be a good wife, and hold up my end of the household, marriage and all that, but at those times, I just don't care. Those are the days I can't really get motivated to do anything; eat, shower, play with Evan, go out... I'm reduced to my bed or the couch, with a book for quite a few hours. I find it quite debilitating, and realize that I'm being completely unfair to Tim and Evan, but at the time, I just don't feel well enough to care.

The last couple of days have been better. Had a birthday celebration with friends last night, at a big sports bar. About 2 hours in, I started to fizzle. I was mentally burnt out from all the happiness around me. There were several staff Christmas parties going on, so lots of laughing, hugging, wishing each other Merry Christmas. It was fine at first, but after a couple of hours, I'd just had enough. I wanted to shout out to them that they had no right to be this happy. That they didn't realize how much pain I was in, or how their happiness made me feel so alienated. We left, and in the car, Tim kind of deflated right away. I think the night was about an hour too long for both of us, in spite of having fun with our friends. It's still hard to see others having so much carefree fun. I know that I don't know what's going on in their lives, or what the future may hold for them, but I know this: I am not happy and they are, and it's not fair. It's a constant reminder that they have something I don't; the blissful naivete that everything is great, life is wonderful, and tragedy is something that happens to other people. I was one of them, who didn't realize that all around me might be people hurting and trying their hardest to get through a night full of happy people while they quietly suffered alone. I'd go back to it again in a selfish heartbeat, and give up every ounce of 'being a better person' and all that bullshit. It is an incredibly lonely place to be when you're aching for something so badly, and everyone around you is laughing, enjoying themselves fully, not a thought in the world about all the things that could go wrong. I even managed to worry about Evan, though he was in quite capable hands. I often worry that he's going to suffer a major allergic reaction, and no one will know how to use the epipen, or he will get some incurable childhood cancer, and I won't be able to do a damn thing about it. While out with the women from my infant loss group today, every one of them called home on their cell phones to see how their other kids were, though we were only gone a few hours. They confessed that they too often worry about their surviving children, and think something equally tragic will befall them. What a damn rip-off that is. Jesus, we've already lost one child, and now we uncontrollably worry about the ones we have left. It's not fair, and I hate that I think about this all the time, while other moms are thinking about decorating their homes for the holidays, shopping etc etc... I am a prisoner to my thoughts , and right now, there's not much I can do about it.
I found out a good friend of mine is expecting her 3rd child. I knew this was coming, and wasn't sure how I'd react. It was much harder than I expected it would be. When I found out, my whole head went fuzzy. Like that feeling of being on Tylenol 3s... kind of foggy headed, "this isn't really happening" sort of thing. I felt immobilized and numb for a few seconds, before I could muster up some words. I told her that if I cried, it was okay. And I did cry, briefly. I'm happy for her family, absolutely, but it's such a tangible reminder of another person who gets to have her baby, while I don't. We should be sharing in the excitement of her new pregnancy together, while enjoying my newborn...instead, I am grieving my baby's death, and imagining how wonderful it will be for her when her new baby comes. It all just makes me feel empty, useless and ripped off. As glad as I am for their family, I am just so sad it's not me, with my new baby. I am sad for our friendship too, because I think it will suffer as she goes on in her pregnancy, and nears her due date. Though we won't live here anymore, I still hope to be close, and I am afraid I won't be able to be a present, helpful friend at the times she'll need me the most. In fact, she may not even want me around...maybe it makes her uncomfortable to be pregnant around me. It probably would make me feel that way. Maybe she's secretly relieved I'm moving, so she won't have to worry about the awkwardness of our friendship growing as she does. I don't know, it's still so new, and I have no firm grip on any certainties. Except that I feel like I'm rambling here, and not sounding very coherent, which is always a sign that it's time to stop writing.