I'm so sick of myself, of how I'm defined by my grief, but also how I need to be defined by my grief.
Living with grief is constant, at least it is now. Maybe one day it wont be so present, just a subtle "something" no one can quite put a finger on.
Everything I do is coloured by grief. I'm not wailing and sobbing all of the time. Some days the tears are close and come easily, others they stay caught in my chest,but doing anything beyond the most basic of chores has me with heart racing, and fear of "can I do this with my dead baby in tow".
I'm so angry with myself. I know each new challenge should be taken gradually, It's still only been such a short time, heck I'm still post natal, but Urghhh!
Pull yourself together woman!
Something I can tell myself,but please don't anyone else dare to deny my loss, to ignore it or gloss over it.
I'm caught between wanting to find my new path and not be disabled by my grief, but wanting to also wear it with pride and wanting the world to grieve with me.
The world keeps spinning,and I'm trying to keep up, but I'm running in treacle afraid I'll drop my dead baby and she'll be gone, forgotten.
