Back In the Game

For so long after Eliza died, I was shutting down.  I shut down and withdrew from everything and everyone.  Literally, figuratively, I was barely present even when I was there.

I remember feeling marked, not just that I would forever be a bereaved parent, but convinced that that is all I would EVER be.  The mother of a dead baby.  No more, no less.  My whole identity suddenly subsumed by grief.

These past weeks and months have been busy ones.  Busy doing, busy planning, busy juggling all the normal obligations of work and home and baby care.  It's tiring (David recently went away for the weekend to golf with friends and when I asked if he was having fun, he said, "I slept seven hours in a row.") and sometimes it's frustrating (I can seriously only clean up the urine of one living creature and GUESS WHAT Little Mac, it is NOT YOU), and sometimes it's boring (laundry, diapers, bottles, essays to grade, wash, rinse, repeat).

But it's good.  I've been feeling especially lucky (along with happy, a word I NEVER thought I'd use to describe myself) about the way my life has opened up to include so many good friends.  And by "good friends," I don't just mean people who are nice to me, although most of them are.  I mean really interesting and remarkable people that I've gotten to know, one way or another:

College friends who knew me when and still love me now, sometimes in spite of myself.  My BFF from high school who finally jumped on the Instagram bandwagon (and I'm still trying to recruit more friends, hint, hint!).  Grad school friends who keep in touch even though they've moved away and I'm not on facebook.  New friends I've met through work, professional connections that have become personal ones that are fun and make me love my job even more.  And most especially of late, I'm looking forward to meeting up with friends I've made because I'm Eliza's mom and friends I've made because I'm Zuzu's mom.

I spent so long say no to every invitation, to every opportunity, to every decision that felt the least bit risky.

And then we said yes to trying to have another baby, and then I said no lots more because pregnancy after loss was basically all I could handle.

And now--finally--it's gotten easy to say yes.  Instead of shutting down, I see the ways in which Eliza's life has opened the way to people and opportunities and friendships I would never have otherwise had.  It's no even trade, to be sure, but it's also not the dark tunnel of horror and shame that I thought my life was going to be.  I sat out on life for eighteen months, and then started working my way back.  It's still hard for me to believe that it's been over two years since Eliza died because it feels like I've aged a million years since I was pregnant with her, and yet it also feels like it just happened, because so little else occurred in my life between Eliza and Zuzu (You know, because I did nothing.  Ever.  Except blog.).  It was like I was on pause and I've finally hit play again.  It's NOT like everything is better or fixed or perfect now, but I do feel like I'm back in the game.

I've been thinking a lot about that Mary Oliver poem I love so much.  It's not that the burden has gotten lighter--Eliza's loss and my grief way heavily on me every single day.  It's that I've gotten better at carrying it, I've gotten so much better at balancing heartbreak with all of the things that fill up my heart every single day.  Some days are easier than others, but I'm figuring out how to carry my broken heart without falling apart.  It may be irreparably cracked, but it doesn't feel empty.

So, thanks for that.  For reading and commenting or just reading.  For sticking with me or meeting up with me.  For reminding me of the person I used to be or helping me find my way to the person I am now.  For filling up my heart.

And special thanks to a certain little miss who happens to fill up my heart and light up my life on a regular basis.  Like, daily.

If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands:

Happy baby = happy mama.

Also I think Zuzu looks a lot like my baby pictures in that last picture.  Could be the lumpy, slightly weird-shaped noggin.  Don't worry, honey.  Your hair will eventually cover that up.