I am a mom.
“Grief is the price we pay for love.”– Queen Elizabeth II
I walked through Walmart today and am unsure what happened, but I just couldn’t help but want to cry. I felt the tears start to well up, and turned down the trash bag aisle. I stood there blankly, trying to pull my shit together.
As I continued on my way, the tears gathered in my eyes. I wondered as I walked by people if they noticed. If they could see my crushed soul, or if I was just another body walking by them. I wondered how many people I walk by every single day that are fighting back tears. It made me feel a little less insane.
As I walked through the parking lot I tried to lie to myself. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t want to be a mom. How difficult easy tasks like going to Walmart would be if I had a baby with me. But it’s not true and it didn’t work. I shook my head as I got behind the wheel to head home. What a stupid lie to try to tell myself. Nice try Tiff.
I’m cleaning out our storage unit because it’s been sitting there since last August, and it needs to be done. I found 4 bottles of wine today. I threw them away. The last thing broken hearted Tiffany needs is wine or any type of alcohol. At least I’m smart enough to know that I can’t drink. I need to stay smart.
It’s crazy how your perspective on life can change in the blink of an eye. The things I thought mattered so much, just really didn’t matter. The energy I wasted. I really hope that I hold on to this perspective. If there’s anything to take from everything that’s happened, I’m thankful to be woken up to what matters in life.
I find it fascinating that our bodies never run out of tears. You’d think that one could cry themselves dry. Turns out, each day I seem to find all of the tears, especially at night. I wish I could run out of tears.
Sophie went to Kellan’s bedroom door twice tonight and barked at it. She’s never done anything like that before. I’ve always heard that dogs sense angels or spirits. I hope Kellan is here with us. I wish he really was.
We got our pictures we took at the hospital with the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep photographer. I can’t look at them yet. I just can’t do it. I want to so badly, but I know it will tear the broken pieces of my heart into even tinier little pieces. If that’s even possible.
I am so scared to dream of Kellan. Only because I know I will wake up to the reality of him not being here, and be devastated. Every single night when I go to sleep I always hope I will not dream of him. How sad is that? Most people would probably think I’d want to dream of him. But no, I don’t. I can’t.
I think I am starting to enter the anger phase of my grief. I hate the stupid phases that are talked about, but unfortunately they aren’t wrong. I am not sure who I’m angry with that Kellan is gone. I guess I just don’t understand why, and it makes me angry.
I am unsure of so many things lately. But I do know that I wanted to be a mom. I want to be a mom. I am a mom.