I wake up tired. I try and forge through the day heavy lidded and achy. A tiredness routed in my very bone marrow until I eventually fall into bed at the first moment it seems socially acceptable for a fitful, need to get up to wee every hour semi-sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat.
You’d think the start of Spring would bring the feeling of fresh renewal, but in our world it’s the start of anniversaries of difficult memories. Well, more difficult anyway. When the scales tipped and kept on tipping, the runaway train of despair, hope, loss of hope. Facing decisions that felt like all roads would lead somewhere worse. Holding on, just trying to hold on.
And somehow we’re still gripping onto the sides now. The reassurance of a scan getting us through for a bit longer before the clawing worry starts to bite again. Trying to find space in my mind to let in the feeling like this might be okay, whilst not wanting to believe it in case that moves me too far from my grief, and therefore my love, for RD.
See, there’s the headf*ck. There’s a sense of knowing in my grief. I talked about it last time, this weight inside that is real and hard, but a connection to my son and the massive shape he has knocked out of me by leaving. And I don’t feel any need to fill it with anything, because there is nothing that can or will. And I get annoyed at the bits gnawing at the edges. I guess in time I will just make more space, and that’s what I’m trying to work on right now. But it’s exhausting.
The longer days do bring a sense of renewal, the glorious yellows and oranges of daffodils reminding at every turn of his bright light and colour but they’re also taunting. Their grayscale has been turned up. I squeeze my eyes shut and remember that getting through the next few weeks and memories of failed dialysis and life threatening episodes, of searing realisations and pain, get me to the start of summer when although making an unenviable decision lead to the most glorious love filled, long, intervention free days.
That this coincides with reaching the point of our pregnancy on the cusp of joy and excitement but simultaneous huge, huge fear, well, I need to give myself a break on the tiredness front. And squeeze my eyes a little bit tighter to see the speck of hope returning.
Probably the best illustration for how life is for us right now. The above is DD’s latest entry in her memory book for RD. He is one of the shapes around the rainbow- also featured are a car door, chocolate coins and a kite. Obviously.