I Want To Be Ordinary

Why, after a particularly peaceful and content day, is the next day dreadful?

I started out okay. But again, it was a grey, benign day, rain intermittent, and I am sad.

I wandered around aimlessly, half completing household tasks and falling onto the couch every ten minutes. I'd sit and stare into space, then get up and wander around again. I felt leaden and heavy. My eyes felt like they had sand in them.

I am afraid I am getting depressed. I dont think so, because I have these types of days sometimes and I always come out of it. But all I wanted to do was sleep. Everything is an effort. A supreme effort. Kelvin tries to joke with me, to snap me out of it. But all I can manage is a watery smile.

I dont even know why. 

All the newborn baby, or emerging baby bump photos on Facebook sends my stomach into a knot. I quickly scroll past those pictures and invest my time reading stupid fan pages, entitled "How Does A Bus Driver Close The Door After They Get Off The Bus?" or "I Hate It When I'm Making A Milkshake and Boys Just Show Up In My Yard." I cringe at the banality, but am jealous of the creators of these pages, because their lives are probably (probably, not definitely) free of a recent tragedy.

I spent time thinking of Sybella, especially her little hands, and I have stroked Jack's little toes, a larger version of Sybella's. I looked at Sybella's photos, just born, sleeping peacefully and ached for her. I worried for her. I wondered about her last moments. Was she scared, did she fight and struggle for her life or did she just go to sleep and not wake up? I freeze at the thought that she might have been scared and alone, wondering what was happening, while I, her mother, was probably doing something trivial like folding laundry or picking up toys, completely unaware that my daughter was dying.
I say to Kelvin that I wonder what today would have been like if she were here, like she should be, 5 weeks old (if she'd been born at term). I'd be breastfeeding, and probably reprimanding Jack to be gentle with his sister as he tried to pick her up. I'd be exhausted and sleep deprived, and knee-deep in laundry, snapping at Kelvin, most likely. As you do when you are overwhelmed by the day to day. It probably doesnt paint a pretty picture, the ordinary suburban predictability of a young family. But right now, it seems like bliss. I want boring, I want suburban, I want predictable. I want to be the quintessential mother, married, one son, one daughter who's biggest worry is what to make for dinner and how we will pay the car insurance. I dont want to be different, I dont want to stand out.

I dont want to be someone who's baby has died. But I am. For the rest of my life.

I just miss her. Sybella. I just miss her.