Follow-up conclusion: my doctor says I'm not crazy. Good to know.

This morning, I had my three-week follow-up appointment with my doctor.  I can't believe it's been three weeks since we lost our baby.  The short time we spent with him in the hospital seems like it just happened yesterday, yet all of the stuff that happened afterward...all of the great people that showed up unexpectedly to bring us fully-cooked meals, all of the cards that overflowed our mailbox, all of the flowers delivered to our door, all of the people that called just to cry with me over the telephone, all of the people that showed up to help us dig and plant a beautiful garden for our equally beautiful boy...I can't believe that all of that has happened in just three weeks.  

The follow-up appointment was more of a mental health check.  My doctor just wanted to get me into a small exam room, give me a hug, look me square in the eye and watch to see if I'd cry.  I did.  She then told me, "I'd be worried if you weren't crying."  I suppose I would, too.  She then offered me sleeping pills, antidepressants and birth control, all of which I declined.  I told her what I wrote here the other day:  I'm just diving right in and dealing with it.  There are no overpasses here; not even a gas pedal.  I left the office and cried the whole drive home.  This probably wasn't safe, but everybody that was outdoors walking their pets or jogging just looked way too incredibly happy for my mood.  I kept thinking of this poem that I'd thought I'd heard before but just couldn't remember if it was a dream or even something I just made up in my head.  Thanks to the power of Google, here it is....this exactly fits me right now...er, tomorrow.

Yesterday I Cried

I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes,
unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.

I'm telling you,
I cried until my nose was running all over
the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of
soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.

I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.

Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired,
or too mad to cry.

I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored,
disrespected, and
disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me
in the ways others did to me
the same things I had already done to myself.

I cried for all the things I had given,
only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that
had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished,
only to give them away,
to people in circumstances,
which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.

I cried because there really does
come a time when the only thing left
for you to do is cry.

Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get
left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.

I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy
who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there
for me so badly until I ached.

Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt.
I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that
caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there,
the hurt wakes you up.

I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.

I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything I needed to know.

I cried a soulful cry yesterday,
and it felt so good.

It felt so very, very bad.

In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because Yesterday,
I cried with an agenda.
-Iyanla Vanzant

It sure does help to get it all out like that, you know?  I could spend all day moping around the house and just letting a few tears out here and there, OR, I could just sit on my bed and cry like a two-year old.  They really do know what they're doing when they throw those tantrums.  If you watch a toddler cry like that, you'll notice that shortly after, they'll be happily playing with their toys or begging for a snack.  It's not because they have wild mood swings...it's because they were angry or sad and they simply dealt with it all at once by throwing themselves onto the floor, followed by kicking and screaming.  So that's how I'm going to deal with my feelings from here on out because it seems to be working.  I feel good now.  I will spend the rest of the day in an upbeat mood and I will not cry anymore because I got that out of the way and now it's time to laugh.  I hope this post didn't depress anybody.  I just felt like documenting my up and down feelings because I am still in shock at how  many people have emailed me after reading my 'We Now Have an Angel' blog to tell me that they, too, lost dear babies and that the way I wrote out my emotions was so right-on.  This is not something you get over in a week or three or ever but the pain does dull.  I am hurt just as badly today as I was three weeks ago, but I am slightly less sad.