You read that right.
My heart is broken. Into a million pieces. My body hurts. Everywhere. Like after I have had my babies. Only today there is no tiny newborn for me to hold. There is no tiny toes to count touching each one as I go, and no sweat smell of my new born to breath in. And I need to feel this, I need to hurt, but in the mist of the worse of all of this, there is goodness.
My arms are not empty. Many times over the last few day my toddler has founds me, asking for up, for cuddles, for milk. At bed time last night, I hugged each one, feeling tiny arms wrap around me, and breathing in freshly bathed hair, feeling tiny chest rise and fall in these hugs. Hugs I hold onto for a bit to long, and they begin to squirm against me.
My family came in the middle of the crisis, words and hugs, caring for the children. Goran's support was immense the night all this began in earnest. Driving, talking, holding, luving. Encouraging me that we will get through this. And the words I needed to hear so badly, "When you are healed, when you are ready, we will try again." He knows me. This is why he is mine.
Friends came and filled my house with luv. I will always remember, hugs, talking and laughing, cooking, and laundry. I did nothing. My counters and fridge were filled with food. The number of children in my house doubled, and it filled my heart with goodness. Toddlers playing, older children helping. My friends thought of my children, bringing new things for them to try and do. One of the friends packed my kids in her van and took them out for fun. A friend came with her 3 month hold son for me to hold. I held him, and talked to him and he smiled at me. I rocked, and swayed and he drifted off to sleep. I will never forget the feeling of his body in my arms. Flowers were delivered, reminding me that the friends that can't be here, are praying for me, supporting me in every way they can. Phone calls, and email, chatting on facebook, it is a constant reminder I always have someone to call, in an instant.
I have sent them home now. I need Goran and the children here with me. Caring for me, and needing me. Them needing me is helping my heart to heal.
I am trusting this process. I am trusting my body, and my heart, to tell me what I need so I can move forward and start to feel normal. I want to feel normal. I want it to be 3 months from now, and to feel normal. I want to feel whole.
I took the kids out for a walk. I breathed in the fresh fall air, and wondered when the leaves began to fall. I snapped pictures, and pushed the stroller at then same time. The dog got all tangled in my legs. The sun was shining, and it felt good to feel it on my face. The children walked and talked, and Angelina snapped pictures with her camera.
Normal? No. Healing? Slowly.