getting better

I've been thinking a lot about last year and those last days before Aidan's death. What gets me is how sudden all of it was.  One moment I was happy and eating chocolate cake, the next I was freaking out in our bathroom while my heart was racing and I thought I was going to die.

Reliving those days is more like it. Every moment, every phone call, every conversation with every doctor. Those were terrible, terrible days. Those stupid antibiotics that made me vomit uncontrollably. My son suffocated to death inside me. With no amniotic fluid he had nothing to breathe. His heart was racing too, dangerously higher than mine, and he died.

I wanted to die too.

I would lie in bed at night after his death, reliving those days as I do now, consumed by sadness and depression. My heart medicine was only a few steps away in our bathroom.. Just a few extra pills would slow my heart down enough and release me from all of this pain. And then I could see my son again.

That would have been a selfish thing to do, though, and I reminded myself of that every time those thoughts came to my mind. Losing a child is hard enough and I did not want Keith to lose his wife too. Nor my family their daughter/niece/granddaughter/cousin/friend.

I got though that dark stage of my life. I'm crying as I write this but I swear I am so much better than I was before. There is still grief and sadness, but is not nearly as intense as it used to be. With time comes healing, but there will always be a scar to remind you of your pain.

I think I will be ok tomorrow, the anniversary of Aidan's death. We are going to see a movie and I am going to bake a cake. We will open some fancy wine from our trip to Napa, and we will celebrate our son's short life. Oh, I am sure I will cry, but I will get through this. I have to.