Hard days (April 2nd)

This is going to be a hard week for both of us.

B is sinking himself into the house, his refuge from heartache. The dining room ceiling is looking good, completely primed, caulked, holes filled and sanded, and ready to paint tonight.

I know I've written about this coping mechanism before, but I'm always wowed how well it works for him. As an engineer, it's his job to fix stuff, to make things right. It doesn't matter how something mechanical is broken, he just has a natural knack for figuring out what is wrong and what it takes to make it better. But when it comes to losing your child, there are not circuits you can rewire or programming you can adjust to change the outcome. The constant is the loss and grief you feel. Now the house: that you can change. You can tear down walls and construct them stronger. You can take an Ugly Chandelier Problem and make it better. Bit by bit, you can rebuild. Each week we get closer to getting finished is a week that B gets further processing his grief.

For me, the pain is creeping up on me at odd times. I looked over the ledgers for last April at work yesterday, and as I reviewed each day's bookkeeping I relived Burke's short life. I haven't cried at work in a long time, but yesterday I broke down once I got to the 5th. Then there was the 10th when Burke died. And the 16th for his memorial service. Then the emptiness.

Yesterday was his official due date, and part of me still wonders if he would be here with us if only my body would have let go of him sooner. Just a few days earlier...

I wish I had a mode of coping that worked as effectively as it does for B. For me it's all about taking each day as it comes and trying to find the Good in it. Reading, writing, being Present for the new baby, they're all part of my day. The monthly projects have been cathartic, too. So, this week's goal is to find some Good each day...

Today's Good find:
I found fabric today that I think will become a new quilt for the babe. I love Eric Carle. As active as the baby is and big as I have gotten 'round the middle, it's fitting to think the child will indeed be a "very hungry caterpillar."