Friday, February 17, 2006
Skinny, naked toddler here has not slept in his bedroom since I came home from the hospital (nearly a month ago now). He insists on sleeping on the green sofa, so we have moved his silly leopard-print pillow (the one he swiped from me more than a year ago) and his blanket to the living room. We have also moved the baby monitor, and we have laid down a huge body pillow on the floor against the sofa so that Ray-Ray won't bang his head on the floor when he rolls off.
Preston and I pretend to be irritated by this new sleeping arrangement, but secretly we love it. Now, we can smile over at him while he falls asleep, and we can keep an eye on him while we watch TV or read until we go to bed ourselves. If anything, Preston and I need the reassurance that he is still there as much as Ray needs the reassurance that WE are still there.
Every day is a little bit easier until now I find I go long stretches of time without crying over the loss of Bailey. I am different in ways, including being MUCH more sensitive than I used to be, and being highly irrational about being separated from Ray. It used to not bother me so much if he went somewhere with my mother or my husband for an hour or two, but I almost lost my mind yesterday when mom suggested that I let Ray go with her and the other little kids to the store for an hour. I COULD NOT HANDLE THE THOUGHT OF BEING AWAY FROM HIM FOR THAT LONG.
This Sunday, I would have marked the halfway point of my pregnancy with Bailey. And yesterday was my OB appointment for the big, important ultrasound where you can find out what the sex of the baby is, and even videotape the baby's movements, as we did more than two years ago when I was pregnant with Ray. I knew it would be tough day and I was so hung up on it the night before that I had a hard time sleeping. More than I expected though, the hurt came crashing back down during the time I would have had the doctors appointment, and I lost it emotionally in a way that actually scared me. Depression is not something I have had any real experience with, and this is the first time I have ever truly felt like a failure. I may know intellectually that I did not CAUSE the infection that threatened my life and took the life of my child, but I am still having a hard time getting past the blame that I have laid upon myself.
The date of this ultrasound, and July 9th when Bailey was due to be born, are the last two dates that I had marked in my calendar in anticipation of Bailey. I plan to be on a long vacation, far away from here on the day Bailey was due. Maybe that will make it easier.