Posted on | May 16, 2016 | 1 Comment

Last week felt like some sort of “survive and advance” week.

Just get out of bed one more time.

Just get dressed one more day.

Just get to work one more morning.

It was as though if I could just get through that one week, everything would be okay.

I pasted the pieces of my heart together, shellacked them shiny and pristine, hoping not even I would spot the cracks and crevices where some pieces were irretrievably lost in the initial collapse of hopes and dreams.  I pressed on. I did the work. I cooked and cleaned and smiled as though everything was just peachy damn keen, and I didn’t need one single thing, thankyouverymuch.

When last night rolled around, I felt pretty good. I mean, I’d survived a week and a half. The worst was over.  My heart was back together; one complete, though mended entity, and I’d made it through. Everything would come up roses, now, right?

Only… that’s not really how grief works, is it.

I woke up at 4am this morning with an ache that started somewhere around the empty of my uterus and spread up and outward to my head and heart. I sat up in bed, feeling that everything was inexplicably wrong in every single possible way, and maybe this past week I was so proud to have survived, was really just… numbness.

Maybe now the real hurting begins. Now… after the flowers have died and the condolences have stopped pouring in. Now, after everyone else has moved on with their lives and I’m still here, empty-armed and teary-eyed.

Maybe I’ve done all this wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed through last week. Maybe I should have let myself curl up in the smallest of balls and cry the loudest of tears. Maybe then the pressure in my chest would be less, the tightness at the back of my throat easier to bear.

Or maybe this is just the way it works… two steps forward, one step back… until there’s a moment when I won’t see an expectant mother and feel the tell-tale crack and ache of my pasted-together heart, shattering all over again.




One Response to “Porcelain”

  1. Ruth
    May 25th, 2016 @ 3:21 pm

    I’ve been thinking of you… It’s been three weeks since your tremendous loss. (Not like you need a reminder.) Heartbreak, healing, grief, joy, the mundane, the extraordinary — it’s all probably been rolled up into some uncomfortable comforting space that you find yourself. Hope you feel surrounded in love and support. <3

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
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