My grief feels tired these days. Like saying "I miss Eliza," is a whiny complaint instead of a cry of agony from my heart.
Of course I miss her.
Of course that doesn't change things.
Of course life goes on.
Of course things get easier.
Of course. These things happen as a matter of course. Resistance is pointless. What's the word? Futile.
Which leaves acceptance?
But I don't want to accept it. I don't want to accept a reality in which babies die.
That's not true. I know babies die. Terrible things happen all the time and everywhere. I know life has to go on in spite of this.
I don't want to accept a reality in which my baby dies. I want to be kind and sympathetic to other poor souls. I want to offer gifts and baked goods and sympathetic notes and a thoughtful card dropped in the mail and feel like I am putting balm on someone else's wound. Meanwhile, I would count my own blessings and hug both my girls tight and marvel at my good fortune in a world where so many people are lost and hurting.
I miss her and the holidays are hard and none of this is new and my grief is old and tired and boring and I am so sick of it and it won't leave me the hell alone. It's whatever a relationship is that isn't parasitic but is mutually beneficial (maybe mutually beneficial is the phrase?) because the truth is that grief won't let me go but I won't let it go because I don't want to let her go and I don't know how to love her without missing her and so the holidays have to hurt and I have to dread December because all it has ever meant since she was born is a life without her in it.
Of course I miss her. It's only been three years since she was here--wiggling and kicking and squirming inside me. It's only been thirty-six short months since we read her stories and told her we loved her and talked about all the plans we had for her.
I'm so tired of missing her. It's been three whole years, thirty-six long months, and I have to just keep missing her forever and a life sentence of grief is too hard to contemplate and I just want to get over it already because how can someone bear to feel this sad for this long. It's tedious is what it is. The same thing over and over and over. I miss her I miss her I miss her.
I can't let it go. I can't let her go.
But I couldn't hold on to her either. I just want her back.
That damn song. "All I want for Christmas is you." Oh, Mariah Carey, you have no idea.
All I want for Christmas is her. Last year and the year before and the terrible, terrible year before that. And next year and the year after and every other year forever and ever.