constant reminders

Babes in slings,
Baby aisles,
Double buggies,
A baby's cry,
The folded baby clothes,
The crib in my room,
Marks on my skin;
Constant reminders of what is not for us.

Visited the deleted items folder in my Outlook today and noticed a weekly email I receive from Babycenter; this one was titled, "This week, your 3.5 month old". Uggh, I had forgotten about this service. I had subscribed to the pregnancy emails as a fun way to track my baby's progress and to learn an extra little thing or too. Unfortunately, the system has no way of knowing when you DON'T bring your baby home and it simply rolls over into "Congratulations, Your baby is 1 week old!", once you pass your due dute. Shortly after Finn died the most I could do was reroute those messages directly to my deleted items because I didn't have the capacity to even open the email dare I view any of the other content while trying to find the unsubscribe instructions.

So now in place of a light informational read, I get a weekly slap in the face. How pleasant. I opened that puppy up and unsubscribed tonight, cursing the cutsy pictures along the way.

3 months today

Today marks 3 months since our dear boy Finn died. Sometimes it feels as if it never happened then the next moment it is all that has happened in our universe. I spent part of yesterday afternoon packing up his clothing. The set-up of his crib, bedding and other belongings had virtually been untouched since Aug. 5th. I had a strong moment full of distraction to put some things away so I took it. It only lasted 20 minutes or so but small increments of time when they spontaneously present themselves seems to help.

Chris continues to work and Jack and I fill our days with activities: play-dates, nature walks, and even a Mama/Jackie evening date at an over-priced sushi restaurant. I've noticed too much activity has turned into unproductive distraction so I am trying to moderate this by taking time for myself to remember Finn and also the family I get to keep. This helps but I often still feel cold when my arms remind me they are empty.