October 1, 2013
I got to bring Sofia home yesterday. My mom and I had a few items to return to the funeral home. While there, we picked up the thank you cards and guest book. And the small box holding Sofia’s cremains. I held her on my lap as we drove home.
I’m not in denial. Not really. I’m well aware of what happened. How can I forget it when I keep reliving that moment over and over again? But that moment was… is surreal. But then there are things like this, the memorial service, seeing the box containing all that is left of my daughter’s physical presence, which make what happened all too real. And those are the moments that are hard. I would say they were too much to bear, but I keep surviving them.
But most of the truly difficult things are behind me. I’ve only stepped into the nursery once, briefly, to move some knitting out of the living room. And I know that packing up everything there will be hard. But I don’t have to do that until I’m ready.
Small steps. Tomorrow, I start packing up some of my maternity clothes. My underwear is too big. Yes, that includes the bras that I bought from Mastec. Madge and Dorcas are back down to the comparatively small 32G they were before I got pregnant. (It’s frightening how small they look now!) My pants aren’t going to stay up for much longer.
But none of these, my things or Sofia’s, are going away. Not yet. I haven’t decided if I want to try again. I mean, I want to, but do I really want to? It’s far too soon to even consider making that decision, and that’s assuming it’s a decision that biology hasn’t already made for me. For now, we’ll set things aside, create a new normal, breathe, laugh, cry, and just be. I’ll worry about a decision that shouldn’t be made until February once February arrives.