I finally caved in and ordered jeans and a couple shirts that would fit me. They arrived yesterday. Pulling on the non-maternity jeans, zipping them up, buttoning them, feeling the denim waistband against my stomach. It pulled at my heart. I knew I had to stop wearing the maternity jeans, but I realized that giving them up was like another nail in my heart. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nTom and I are starting to feel normal for longer stretches of time, and it turns out I hate feeling normal. I want to ache and rage. I want to feel close to Tommy Jr. Moving on with my life makes me feel far from him, and far from being pregnant. Wearing normal clothes and being able to exercise and drink wine all make me feel far away. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nMay 10 was a lifetime ago. I feel like I’m backsliding, even though I should feel like I’m healing. I don’t know what I need anymore. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Today is my first day alone at work again. My throat is tight and my stomach feels hot and unsettled. I keep thinking about that day. I keep feeling like I’m standing at the edge of my sanity and not wanting to hold on to anything or anyone but Tom Sr and Tommy Jr. But Tom Sr is at his own job. And Tommy Jr isn’t in my belly, or in the NICU, or with a nanny, or at a daycare. I can’t feel him near me. I can’t sleep at night, I just want to lay awake and wait to feel him again. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nI want to pound the walls and stomp my feet and scream. I want pain and blood and bruises. Anything but this emptiness.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I finally caved in and ordered jeans and a couple shirts that would fit me. They arrived yesterday. Pulling on the non-maternity jeans, zipping them up, buttoning them, feeling the denim waistband against my stomach. It pulled at my heart. I knew I had to stop wearing the maternity jeans, but I realized that giving … Continue reading “XL”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2049","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2049","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2049"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2049\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2050,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2049\/revisions\/2050"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2049"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2049"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2049"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}