and as soon as we went throguh the nursery, i lost it. all control i had over myself was gone, and i did my very best not to sob out loud while two nurses wheeled me on the bed and tried their best to keep me comfortable through it all.
how is it, that in a hospital of this scale and magnetite, they could only find a room for me in the maternity and infant area? and that's when i realized that as much as i try to say i've moved on and i've tried to accept it all, i'm nowhere near emotionally recovered from losing my little boy. and how could i? it's only been one month. some women tell me i'm strong and admire my ability to be so candid and open about it, and others tell me they've been through the same and they didn't have any sort of emotional reaction to it. and then there's me - half sick to my stomach about it, and half wanting to move on. the realist in me tells me to accept the fact, that there's nothing i can do, and move on, because that's the best and healthiest way to deal with it. and then the mother in me, the part that needs to love and care for this little life, is just heartbroken to a million bits and cannot fathom how life can progress without this very important step in my life. how can there be progress from here on? how an i go on? if this is all i've got to look forward to (the life that i'm currently already leading) then i'm just staying stagnant while the rest of the world continues to go on.