Six Months

It was six months ago today, Tuesday, December 25, that my water broke.

It didn't occur to me until I heard the bells in the University tower chiming at 10:00 this morning when I was dropping off C after our coffee run. It was 10:00 am that morning that I woke up and felt something wet, sat up to a gush and ran to the bathroom. We were in the emergency room by 10:20.

In 10 days, both the boys would be gone from my body. Gone from the world. In 10 days, they are gone six months.

It still hurts like hell. Not always, but often.

*****

Six months ago today, my friend JK's father died.

Very early yesterday morning, my friend B's father died. He was 85, and had been ill. Suffering the after-effects of a stroke and years of back pain. It still hurts, though, to lose your parent. She has 2 small children and a husband who needs a heart transplant.

I can't even imagine what she's going through right now. She doesn't talk easily about her feelings. But it weighs on her. We have been friends long enough to know.

I can't go to the funeral. Yes, the flights are expensive, but that's not the reason. I really don't think I would be able to get through the funeral. I get anxious about just jumping on a plane so I can be there for my friend.

Six months and one week ago, I was checking into flights and calling my doctor to see if I could fly at a moment's notice because we knew that JK's father would not live long. I wanted to be there for my friend, but in the end I couldn't, because I was in the hospital myself when he died.

I know she'll understand. I just wish the idea of going didn't give me a panic attack. If anyone needs support right now, it's B. But I can't give it to her, either. And that feels pretty fucking bad.

*****

Six months later and I struggle to find some meaning in my life now. I'm trying, but not invested in my work, not like I should be. I picture my future as a childless academic, wondering what the point is to all my study, all my research, all my classes. The system won't change because of me, my work. I feel so distant, and mediocre. Not quite good enough.

I love my husband and he loves me. I have good friends and family. But my boys are gone. And I don't know if I will ever feel the joy I felt when I carried them. Everything else pales in comparison.

I know, it will get better. I'll find things to get invested in. To hope for. Right now all I feel is anxiety even trying to accomplish anything. Like I'll fail. Or it will all be for naught.

Again.

*****

Six months.

Goddammit.