It's been quite an emotional week.
This bed rest stuff hasn't made it any easier. I feel like I'm trapped inside walls that are closing in, closer and tighter every day. I open all the windows and doors to let the breeze in, but the air is still stifling and stale. I move from the bed to the couch to the porch and back to the bed in an endless cycle of restlessness and discomfort.
Bryan's been reading some of the pregnancy books for dads. He's started asking more questions, especially about delivery. I think he's getting nervous, but he doesn't want to admit it. He won't take simple answers. I suppose in the big picture that's a good thing. But right now it's so damn frustrating. We've had these conversations for two years. Why I feel like my body failed me. Why the hospital was so traumatizing. Why I'm so afraid of interventions and surgeries. If we've talked about it before, why wasn't he listening? Why doesn't he remember any of this?
He asked a lot of questions specifically about labor with Brake last year. I tried to let go of the frustration because he never asks about that night. He doesn't like to talk about it. Somewhere in the midst of questions and answers and trying to be calm, he got quiet and turned away from me. I asked if he was okay, trying not to the push the issue. "I never knew he was alive when he was born. Does that mean he was in pain?"
It completely floored me. I had no idea what to say. I had no idea that he didn't know. He was so distracted trying to get the medics in the house, trying to make sure that I was okay. He never saw him until he followed the ambulance to the hospital. He never asked questions, so I never thought about the possibility that he didn't know.
My little brother got married Wednesday. I've grown used to missing things. Graduations. Holidays. Birthdays. Most of them just feel like little things now. But this. This was a big thing. And I was devastated having to miss it.
Thursday was F's birthday. She would have been 25. Today marks 6 years since they pulled her life support. If I close my eyes, I still get goose bumps from the sound of my dad's voice...I still feel the tears and snot all over my face that Sunday morning in church...I still smell the dirt in the jeans that I was still wearing from the previous night's rodeo. It's been 6 years, but it's still so unbelievable...even more so than the death of my babies.
I sent Bryan out tonight for a poker night with the guys. He needed a break from the house. And I needed a break from him. We haven't been getting along very well, and I needed time to myself. I turned some music on, but it didn't take very long for the house to be too quiet. Even the best music can't drown out a restless silence. I got bored. And then I got lonely. And then I started thinking, which is never a good thing, especially after a week like this.
I got a random idea to log into my old MySpace account. I kept it up for a while just to maintain contact with a few certain people. I haven't used it in years though. I don't think I've so much as looked at it since my divorce. I opened the mailbox, and right there on the front page was a message from Andy asking if I was in TN. My stomach lurched so hard I thought I was gonna puke. I'm pretty sure the message was actually from his mom, but that doesn't make it feel any better. Just about the time I calmed myself down, I started seeing messages to and from my ex husband, way back before things got so bad.
The divorce is still such an incredibly hard subject for me. I should be over it by now. But I'm not. Not completely. I married my best friend, and I thought I would spend my entire life growing old with him. I don't like to admit it, but I miss him. I miss the awesome friend he was before we got married. I miss that newlywed innocence...and that feeling of being on top of the world with an awesome relationship and an amazing job and a life that was going somewhere. I'm happy with my life right now. I love Bryan, I love my babies, and I wouldn't give either of them up for anything. But seeing that tonight was still a pretty hard slap in the face. And it reopened some nasty wounds.
I need to go to bed, but I just don't think sleep is coming tonight.....