keep your hands to yourself when you follow me home

2014-10-16 9:14 a.m.

I'm feeling hungover even though I didn't have one drink yesterday - it's from the yucky work conversation, plus I have a cold lodged only in my sinuses, may it stay there. And it's rainy.

The difference is sometimes I use my music to make me sadder. It's the friend telling me "You're not crazy, it really is this hard." I thought I had a balance, though, maybe one in seven? Eight? I used to be cool, man (no I didn't).

The French neighbor was on the bus again this morning with her son, different bus. He had a little blue umbrella with puffy clouds, rainbows.

Yesterday was apparently National Pregnancy Loss Day? We have a day? So, uh, happy pregnancy loss day. I believe people should be open about it but I couldn't put it on social media. Does that make me part of the problem? It felt like an attention grab for me, even though I don't see it that way when other people do it. I didn't even tell my own sister until this year, the safe side of a couple of kids, but we're about as close as the earth and the sun. But more alike.

I never thought I wouldn't think about it every day. That's how it is with loss, it gets pushed to the back of your schedule, lunch, rushing from A to B, the little pressing things become more important because we give them attention. I wonder if we'll meet, if that brief moment of potential was enough to count as a life. It's funny to be sad about something I never let myself get happy about, hardly told anyone about - because I was worried that what happened would happen. I remember not understanding when I saw the evidence.

It seemed so huge, and it was just a little loss. Sesame seed sized. Never even a blueberry with arm buds like I thought. But it was real in my heart and in my body, I wrote to you weeks later that I was still bleeding. I'm glad I did, I'm glad it was hard and I was on the bathroom floor incapacitated with the real physical pain of it. It sounds crazy but it's the only way I could honor that little spark. I feel the same about the other little one I'll never take to school. Let it rain. If anyone else said that to me I'd try to talk them out of it into some kind of peace, but leave my crazy alone, I don't want that peace.

Of course I'm aware that if it hadn't happened I wouldn't have my funny boy who came a few months later. The one who every day greets me with "Mama, I cried for you!" It would have been someone else. A little loss that changed my life and made another one.

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Last update 10 2014
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