Yesterday was the worst day yet for me emotionally. I cried for the majority of the afternoon. I was crying when Tobyjoe came home from work. I cried after he got home. And I cried during dinner.
I felt worse for a few reasons. My brother, who has lived in Brooklyn for as long as I have, left for China. He’s not sure if or when he’s coming back. He lived in the apartment I lived in when I first moved to New York. And for some reason even its vacancy makes me cry. I didn’t even get to say goodbye being wrapped up in my own life – bummed me out greatly. Another chapter closed.
My mother left yesterday after three weeks of keeping me/us company and reassuring me every five minutes that Emory is going to be OK. The house is empty. And I am free to cry more often. So yesterday the moment she left, that’s exactly what I did. I cried.
For some inexplicable reason, Schmitty’s death, which took place on April 21st, has come back to haunt me, like, it hit me going 4,000 MPH. From behind. Twice. I feel as though I gave up on him, let him die. It’s emotional vomit – gibberish – but I think about him all the time now. I would give almost anything to snug on him again.
So, there’s that. That could have something to do with yesterday’s funk.
In other news, Emory had his second pediatric appointment today. He has put on an entire pound since being born. He’s now 8 pounds 12 ounces. I was so proud. (He’s right in the middle as far as weight is concerned. We were very pleased as was our doctor.) He’s a healthy baby boy even though he’s getting most of my breast milk from a bottle. I’m still very perturbed about the whole feeding situation. But I’m so sick of talking about it, thinking about it, feeling inferior because of it, so I’m going to kill this paragraph immediately.
I have received countless emails from women over the last couple of weeks. They have all meant a great deal to me. And when I find the time, I plan on thanking everyone personally. You have no idea how much your words have meant. None. This has been and continues to be a very difficult time for me. I am talking about it with Tobyjoe; he’s aware of my sadness and checks in on me daily. I am taking care of my little one because I love him more than words can possibly say. I’m taking care of myself, although, I could stand to eat more. (Gotta find more foods I can eat with one hand, I’m afraid.)
I know that these feelings will one day end. But I want them to go away soon. I want my old self back. Perhaps once I can take Emory out, I’ll feel better. I can’t wait to take a stroll to the park with my boy. (When is that safe? I get conflicting information.)
I used to think we’d only have one child due to financial reasons, labor pains, or due to the annoyance of actually being pregnant. But in all honesty, I’m not sure I want to deal with this type of sorrow ever again. One child might just be enough for me after all.
P.S. If anyone wants to send a how to video or stop on by and teach me how in the hell to use a Moby wrap, I’d be forever grateful. I put it on with Tobyjoe’s help the other day and stuffed Emory in there and it seemed totally wrong. He seemed totally twisted and uncomfortable. And I like to worry about everything including my Moby wrapping skills.