The last two mornings I have woken up and not felt shock.  I have awoken with the knowledge that I am the mother of a child who is no longer here.  That in itself is shocking to be quite frank.  It breaks my heart that I am entering an acceptance phase.  That now, this is just something I have to accept.  I am not going so easy and am bringing some ugly emotions into the phase with me.
Last night we ordered Chinese food for dinner.  My fortune cookie said "You have a kind heart and a generous spirit".  I am in an ugly place.  Full of jealousy and rage.  People have told me that our experience has made them recognize their many blessings.  That they hug their children a little tighter.  Someday I will be glad for that.  Right now, I am jealous and angry.
Leaving my bubble is frightening and makes me anxious.  We had to go to the mall this weekend to get me a new iPhone because in the middle of all this, mine just stopped working.  The Glendale Galleria is buzzing with families and strollers.  I felt claustrophobic.  Afterwards, we took our dogs to the beach at Bellmont Shores, so they could run around with other dogs.  Little children playing in the sand.  Babies sitting on their mommy's laps on beach towels.  All too totally overwhelming.  A world without my Max feels so empty.  I see parents berating their children who want another piece of candy and I want to run up to them and scream, "Do you know how lucky you are to have a child who wants what every child wants?"
Max still hasn't shown up in my dream with something for me.  He showed up Saturday night, just not alive.  In the dream, I had placed him in the care of one of my colleagues and then when I went to get him, I was told he had died in a very casual way.  I am still reliving shock while I sleep.
I am angry about the times I had to ignore him to get things done.  My little Max was so patient generally but would get crazy when I was on the phone or somehow not focused on him.  Like a work call I  had during his regular bath time about whether or not to have an open bar at a fundraising event where we didn't charge enough to justify an open bar.  I put Max in his exersaucer and he was unhappy, howling for my attention.  I put him in the jumperoo, more of the same.  Finally I picked him up, sat him on my lap and flipped through his favorite books slowly enough so that he could look through the pictures.  All he wanted was to be with me.  Once I figured out what he wanted, he was easy to please and I was so grateful for that.
I still have baby weight to lose, which is another kick in my pants.  It is terrible putting on clothes that I wore while I was pregnant - maternity shorts and dresses, not just because it has taken so long to lose this weight but because they are a reminder of the excitement I had in anticipation of his arrival.  Also, I have such conflicted feelings about the fact that I wasted (and continue) to waste so much time worrying about the weight.  The weight came because Max came.  He was worth every pound.
A friend from my very brief career in real estate sent my mom and I each a book that validates so many of these feelings that I have.  It is called, "A Time to Grieve: Meditations for Healing After the Death of a Loved One".  The meditations are on each of the very real feelings that people have during grief and in one of three stages: Retreating, Working Through, and Resolving.  One that I bookmarked says "Being in public takes its toll".  The quote on the page says, "When one is pretending, the entire body revolts - Anais Nin".  The page says, "As we attempt to return to our jobs or our social life, or just to leave the house to do errands, we may feel that we must hold our heads up and keep acting brave.  So we talk about things that don't interest us instead of talking about what plagues our heart and mind.  We reluctantly agree to do things in which we do not have the slightest bit of interest".  I am planning to venture out a little this week.  If you see me, you might guess that my heart isn't completely in it but that doesn't mean I don't care.  I am just working through this terrible loss and I am only at the beginning of a new stage of grief...one that seems full of disinterest, jealousy, anger and fear.  Another page in the book that I bookmarked says, "Don't expect me to be over it".  The quote says "Tears may be dried up, but the heart - never".  My tears have not yet dried, but my sadly, heart feels like it has.