Growing up, I was constantly pegged as “emotional.” My feelings were brushed aside and I wasn’t taken seriously, because I was “being emotional.” I hated it. I still do. And then I feel guilty, because I become one of those who criticizes me for feeling deeply; I feel like I am ruled by my emotions.
Laying in bed, unable to sleep, tears rolling down my cheeks, I feel all these feelings. Emotion on top of emotion. A never-ending wave of seemingly negative emotions – sadness, anger, emptiness, grief, impatience, doubt, hurt… Should I be emotion-less? Though I’m not happy about the all-consuming power of these feelings, I’m aware that these are part of what makes us human… this feeling deeply. I guess it’s kind of like Old Guy said, “I don’t want [these things] to ‘not matter’. I don’t want it to be something that just passes… if the scar is deep, so was the love… Scars are a testament to life.”
I got my Shiloh memorial bracelet in the mail the other day, had been waiting impatiently for it so I could put it on my wrist, hoping it would help me heal. I love it. Honey Thorns makes beautiful jewelry. I picked a design with the following quote: “God has you in his hands I have you in my heart” and personalized it with a wing charm, the March birthstone (March 1st was my due date), a heart charm, the quote, and a tag with Shiloh’s name.
As much as I love it, I couldn’t help thinking (because the thoughts never end)… why does something with “Shiloh” on it make anything better? Who am I kidding? Even though the days are easier, in some respects, it’s still been so hard. I have to make myself focus on the mundane, day-to-day tasks.
I sell my handmade things in a couple local shops, and one of them contacted me with an order. I sent her a quick reply, letting her know how things were going, telling her I was taking a bit of a break from sewing. After making a whole bunch of stuff for my sis-in-law’s baby girl, I left all of the fabric out, figuring I would soon be making some blankies and bibs ‘n’ things as soon as I found out if I was having a boy or a girl. Well… I haven’t been able to do anything with that pile of fabric, so it’s just been sitting there.
As the days go by, I’m getting closer to when I would have held my baby in my arms, but farther away from when my baby was still alive. Somehow, I feel that truth so intensely. I don’t want to be sad forever… but I don’t want to forget, I want it to matter. I know things won’t ever be the same “normal,” but I don’t know how much longer I can deal with all of these emotions.
*header image credit: pinterest.com/vintagedaydream/baby-names