For about two weeks, I've been sad. I just haven't been able to shake that I'm-on-the-brink-of-tears feeling. I think it's a whole lot of everything hitting me all at once.
Next Tuesday marks 1 year that we packed our life up in Asheville and moved here to start seperate lives. I don't regret that decision. I regret having things get so bad that I lost myself ... And I'm sad about other stuff that seems more appropriate for a therapists sofa than a blog ;)
In three weeks the divorce will be final. I am thankful there will be closure. I don't regret the 11 years we spent together but I don't like how things were at the end of the marraige and at the beginning of the seperation. Things are so much better now and I'm thankful for that.
I miss my son. A lot. A lot of people say they can relate to me because they had a miscarriage. I am sorry they went through that but THEY ARE NOT THE SAME. Just as I cannot totally relate to my friend who's daughter died of SIDS. They are all traumatic and they are all different. My cousin died in May shortly after being diagnosed with cancer and it rocked me in unexpected ways. I knew her mostly through social networking sites since she lived 10 hours away. Her mom is my aunt and godmother who I was pretty close to as a kid. When I was 15, she told me she was pregnant. I remember her joy and my aunt sharing every moment of her daughters' first years with me in pictures and letters. No one should have to bury their kids. And my heart ached for my aunt, my uncle, and their other daughter. It brought to surface the fact that Micah is not here with me in a more intense way than I've ever experienced. I finally have a validation in my heart that even though others never had the chance to meet my son, his life was valuable, he was wanted, and he is missed.
