short and not too sweet

I hate that people pity me.  I really do. I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want to be a freak that people whisper about. I want to be normal. 

My dream is and has been for a long time to be a simple wife and mother; a wife to a loving man and a mother to a living, healthy baby. I would like to do other things, sure, but only as long as I can have that too. I don’t think that’s too much to ask and I haven’t given up hope but there are times when it seems like it’s never going to happen. I feel bitter and broken and I don’t want to be this way but grief is a powerful thing. It’s made me see things clearer, it’s made me value the little things and cling to what I have but it’s also left a hole in me, it’s made me a little darker. Death has touched me and it left its mark. This darkness makes it hurt to move, to breathe. I'm a part of some online loss groups and I see these women whose loss is newer than mine and I wish I could tell them it will be okay but I can't. I don't know what to say because I don't know what I'm doing. I have no idea how I get up every morning, how I greet people with a smile and make it through the day without falling apart. I feel like a fraud, a clown. I’m smiling but inside I’m dying. I have this need, this aching in my heart for my son and I can't get past it. I know it's only been two months but I feel like I'm making no progress in my healing. I act like I'm okay, I even convince myself sometimes but I'm not. I should be sleeping right now and instead I'm crying on my couch trying to get these feelings out to achieve a little peace-even if it's only for a few hours. What made me think I was ready to go to work? I know the answer to that; I had convinced myself I was doing alright. I had a week or so where I was acting like a regular person again and thought, "It's all downhill from here." What a crock. I fell apart tonight after seeing the child of a woman I hardly know. I see pictures of babies all the time but something about that picture just kicked me in the gut. I feel like I an idiot at work when I do anything wrong…no one’s said anything but I see it in their faces this reaction like, “Really? You forgot that?” or “Are you even here?” I’m not. I don’t know where I am but it’s not in this moment, this day. This shell of a person is just breathing and moving for me, playing the part of the woman I used to be. I'm not sure where I am or if I'll ever be back. I need to toughen up. I need to be strong. I need to figure this out. But for now, all I can do is keep going I guess.