In these last 8 months, I have found I focus on the time a lot. In my head, I have a time clock running, counting how many weeks it’s been since I saw her sweet smile for the last time. I am constantly thinking, “36 weeks ago today, we were being induced, tomorrow makes 36 weeks since she was born, Friday makes 36 weeks since we had our first night at home” and the clock continues as the days pass.I replay the last night we had with her in my head, I know the times we woke up, the times we fed. I know the last time I saw her breathing, peacefully asleep next to me. I know the time I woke up, 30 minutes later to find her not OK. I know the time they “called the code” in the hospital. I know all the time that surrounded her life, yet since she left this world, the present time has stood still.
In the last 8 months, we’ve done a lot of things to try to run away from life. We’ve traveled to the West Coast, Vegas, Chicago and Tennessee and yet, I only remember a few details from those trips. I remember so many details of those 6 days we had with Avery yet I can barely remember what I did last week. Time is passing me by and right now, I am content with that. I am happy to be stuck in those 6 days. They were the best days of my life.They say that time will help us to heal but in many ways, I am not sure I want to heal. Being stuck where I am now, where my grief is raw and fresh helps me still feel close to Avery. On days like today, where I can just lay in bed and cry all day, I feel an odd sense of calm. I know this place well and I feel at home in it, it is familiar and I am comfortable here. As much as it hurts, I know what to expect.
Finding healing terrifies me. While I know that no amount of time will ever heal us completely, I am still scared. Logically, I know I will NEVER forget Avery and I will ALWAYS have her in my heart but leaving this place where the pain cuts deep is frightening. This has been my life the past 8 months; this heartache is my new normal. Anything outside of this is foreign to me and right now, I don’t want to leave my bubble. I am scared of losing her and losing our memories. I know what to expect out of my current days, but what do days look like if I step out of this bubble. More let downs? New heartache? Stepping outside of my grief bubble makes me vulnerable again and right now, I’m not sure I can expose myself life that again.I understand that one day I will need to leave this bubble. I cannot hide from life in my grief forever. However, today is not that day. Today I hide and surround myself with my grief. Today I find comfort in my overwhelming heartache because it helps me to feel close to her. And today, I need to feel close to her.