Just set the girls up in the other room with play-dough. I'm hoping for a little bit of rest time this afternoon, which I guess is kind of funny considering it's hasn't exactly been a strenuous day or anything. As much as I dislike play-dough (and all the clean up afterwards), that $2.99 for a few new containers feels well worth it, even if the quiet playing only lasts minutes.
We are all doing fine, taking one day at a time, and all that blah blah blah. I can't believe it's already approaching the middle of August. I realized the other day that I have spent the majority of the summer in pants and long sleeves (mostly of the cardigan variety). Sure, some of it may have to do with how (in)frequently my legs are shaven, and our weather has been on the more mild side recently, but the reality is, I think I feel more protected. Like that extra layer over my body some how softens the edges of life or something.
Every night in bed I think, Please give me wisdom. Give me strength. Give me patience. Give me mercy. It's become my evening mantra. Wisdom. Strength. Patience. Mercy. Wisdom. Strength. Patience. Mercy. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I don't feel any wiser or stronger, and I certainly don't feel more patient. (Who knows about that who mercy thing?) But I guess it must be doing something because I have made it this far, and it's going on nine weeks now. Before all of this I would've never thought I was a strong enough person to handle something so big. Yet here I am. Here we are.
I love this baby. I love Calvin. But there are days that I just want to be done. That being pregnant and holding on and not knowing the how or when of his death feels like too much. But even in that same breath I know that once he is gone I will long to be pregnant with him again, because at least then he is alive. At least then he is with us.
The dichotomy of emotions, the push and pull of his life and death, the guilt with every fleeting thought... it is hard. It is hard and painful and sad and frustrating.
Perhaps I need to give us a little more credit though. Give myself a little more credit. Because it is hard, but we are doing it. We are still here. And we may not be better for it yet. But I have to believe that at some point we will get there.