Disconnected

Lately I have been feeling a little disconnected from the world around me. I feel lost. I am unsure of which direction to take, if any direction at all. Do I stay stalled where I am at, or do I move left or right?

The only direction I can think of is to move forward. But how? My husband and I wanted a baby so much. We planned down to every detail, even trying to get Elijah's birthday as close to the month of August as we could. Elijah's due date was August 22nd. We were married in August, bought our first house together, and brought our first son into the world in August. August was always a good month for us.

We so badly wanted a new little someone in our lives. Tiny fingers, tiny toes, dirty diapers and spit up, all of it. It is all worth it.

But now what? Move forward? Here I go with the what-if's. Just don't tell my mother, she will tell you that I am the "What-If Queen". But what if? What if we move forward and choose to try again? What if we cant get pregnant again? What if we do get pregnant but then lose the baby... again? What if my life is at risk... again? What if our son has a harder time adjusting to a new family member when he is older? My mind is spinning in a giant 'what-if' tun drum and I cannot find my way out.

My husband and I are actually quite laid back when it comes to planning our future. We basically say "if it happens, it is meant to be". That was his main way of deciding whether or not to get up in the morning to attend his college classes. He never double checked our alarm clock, he would just say "if it goes off, it is meant that I attend class today". He lives by his own philosophy. I love him dearly for that. He is the most laid back person I know and is always teaching me to let go once in awhile and stop fretting so much about "what-ifs".

I know and understand that everything that has happened in our lives thus far has happened for a reason. Some reason or another, it has happened, whether or not we have been shown the reason yet. I can see the stepping stones of our friendship, into our marriage and then into parenthood. Each placed so strategically yet not all were planned by us alone. God has played a major role in the planning and placement of our stones; again whether we know it or not. We make thing we were in control of our very fate, our future, but God really has complete control. We just like to think we do.

I feel disconnected from the world recently because everything seems to have been pulled out of my control; I don't like that feeling. I lost control over my own body. I lost control over my family, my children. I am supposed to keep them safe. I am supposed to make sure they eat well and get enough sleep and have clean clothes to wear. I am the wife and mother of this family, that is my responsibility. I feel ashamed and disappointed in myself that I was unable, and still am a little bit, to do that.

I feel disconnected from my son. Seems like lately he has forgotten who his own Mommy is. He looks at me with eyes of confusion, eyes of distrust. Today, for the first time in a couple of weeks, he brought his favorite blanket and puppy to me for safe keeping. He used to always do that; wanting me to hold on to them while he played. He hasn't for awhile, until today. It brought tears to my eyes, but I choked them back. I didn't want him to see Mommy cry... again.

I feel disconnected from friends and family. People wanting to hang out, help out, or just simply talk. I don't know how. I want to, but never make the effort to their invitations. Partly, I believe its because I miss my husband and son so much I don't want to leave them. The other part is a mystery. I feel something, but cant put my finger on it. I just feel blah; no ambition.

I feel disconnected from my body. I am still in pain from my surgery, but I don't really own that pain. I lay in the bathtub and stare at my belly. I look at it and touch it, hoping I will see a wiggle. It is so flat, and soggy. I remember when I was just so recently pregnant with Elijah, how he would interact with me. He would poke back at every teasing poke I would throw his way. As I lay in the bathtub now, I cross my arms around my tummy and waist, squeezing and hugging, hoping I would just feel something. Nothing. All I feel is emptiness. A worthless uterus and messed up insides that make me feel sick and painful to even use the bathroom. I hate my body now.

Tomorrow is Elijah's funeral. I don't want to go, just like I didn't want to go through with labor. If I do it, it is done, and I can never go back. How am I to remember him if I let him go completely? I spent such a short time with him. It was not enough. I feel, and am afraid, that I will forget his face, his smell and his touch. I will forget how it felt holding his two pound body in my arms. Cupping his tiny face in the palm of my hands and sneaking my pointer finger under the fold and grip of his tiny 6-fingered hand. I don't want to forget. I am afraid.

I know that I will become connected again, but when? Soon I hope.