I woke up this morning feeling mad. Confused, tricked, betrayed, angry. And I'm feeling all of these things not solely because of the fact that Carter was taken from us, but because of the things that have come after. Being angry doesn't bring Carter back, I've accepted that. But I'm mad about all the other things that have been messed up because we lost him.
These first six weeks that I've spent recovering were supposed to be filled with late nights, loss of sleep, frustration at figuring out what he wants, feedings, and figuring out our new life together. Instead, I'm left wanting for all those things. I heard our friends talk about how their new baby isn't sleeping...I'd give anything to not sleep again if it meant taking care of Carter. Our plans for holidays changed completely. Instead of staying home and trying to figure out how to cook a turkey in a crock pot, we went to Boise for Thanksgiving in our new crossover vehicle that felt all too big without a carseat in the back. We planned to celebrate Christmas at home too, cuddled up by the tree, spoiling our boy with more gifts than he needed. Instead, we're stuck trying to figure out what to do because the only thing we want to do is the one thing we can't.
Back in September, I put in my notice at work and told everyone I was planning to be a stay at home mom. They found my replacement quickly, and I even trained her for a few days. Then we lost Carter, and I was left childless, jobless, and without purpose. I was fine at home for the first few weeks-I had Brandon with me for two, and was still recovering for the third-but those first few days the week of Thanksgiving were rough. I was bored and tired of sitting at home. I had a job interview that Monday in a different department of the school I had worked in before. I figured I was a shoo-in, because I already knew the people that worked down there, and had glowing recommendations from the administration of my previous job. I didn't get the job, though. And even though I was incredibly bummed, I had applied for a job at a middle school, and thought that maybe I was meant to have that position. But I found out yesterday that I didn't get the job at the middle school either, despite the principal and vice principal from my last job reaching out and telling the middle school admin how lucky they'd be to have me. Both places told me they chose someone with more experience. The middle school called and asked if I would be interested in something part time, if something opened up, because they loved me. Talk about a stab to the heart. I was good, just not good enough.
I obviously don't expect a job to be handed to me, but I thought that after losing a child and having my world somewhat crumble, I thought maybe a divine force would make the process of getting back into the real world a little easier. Maybe not add more hardship to the suffering I've already endured. I guess I was wrong.
So when I woke up at 3:00 this morning, sad, angry, and unable to fall back asleep quickly, I made a plan for my day. A non-productive, depressing, angry plan that would allow me to wallow and soak up all the pain I've been feeling for the last six weeks. I planned to stay in bed, watch tv, not shower, not eat, not talk to anyone, and just be miserable all day. It didn't sound great, but it felt appropriate. But then I woke up for real at the glorious hour of nine am, planning to do those things, and realized that I can't. Not even that I can't, but that I don't want to. On some level, I do, but being pissed off at the world and at God isn't going to fix anything. It's not going to bring Carter back-it sure wouldn't make him proud of me-and it's not going to get me a job or a hobby or just anything to save me from my boredom; it would only make it worse. So I got out of bed, opened the blinds, fed the cats, got myself a big glass of water, and decided to write down all my feelings. Let them out instead of letting them pool up inside me and wear me down. Because you know what? Depression is the absolute freaking worst, and I'm not going to let it get me. So now, I'm going to go take a shower, eat breakfast, and figure out what I'm going to do today to get out of the house. I am stronger than I think I am or sometimes want to be. If Carter has taught me anything, it's that.