i haven't cried in ages. but i cried tonight, just a little.
a friend of mine asked me if i was up to babysitting his six month old. and i want to say yes, i really do. i'm fine with baby J, usually. i made a choice, once i found out what had happened, that i didn't want to avoid him. that i didn't want to make it into a big thing when i saw a baby next.
but the one time since i lost my baby that i've been solely in charge of him - just for 20 minutes or so - he cried, and i got really upset because i couldn't console him.
when i got home tonight, i cried. just a little.
i don't begrudge anyone else their babies. i don't wish pain or horror like this on anyone else.
but i'm exhausted with longing and wishing and grief.
i'm calmer this month. i'm not charting (...even though it's almost impossible to switch off completely, seeing as my cycle started on the first - and i did take three temperatures which makes me confident that i did ovulate), and i'm not so miserable and stressed. generally, i'm in a better place.
...but that doesn't mean that i don't still long and yearn for a baby of my own. that i get to actually hold in my arms.
that doesn't mean that i don't still miss the baby that died.
i've started freaking out that i've not locked the car again.
i hope the anxiety's just visiting. that it's not back to stay.