My mind is full yet, it is completely blank. It’s racing yet it’s completely still. It’s full of loudness but yet it’s eerily quiet and serene. I have words upon words upon words. I have so much to portray but no real words to put out.
I’m a little lost right now.
Yesterday, The Hubby and I spent the afternoon with The Kiddo’s parents. I had requested that my yearly package be given to me in person, without the involvement of the agency. We decided to meet up, and they opened their home to us, graciously. It was a good day. It was an eye-opening day. It was a turning point.
I’ll recount the visit in the coming days, when I’ve had some space to separate the onslaught of intense emotions that come from being in these situations. Right now, I’m internalizing, searching, contemplating. I’m feeling guilt and worry. Remembering old fears, and new ones. I’m trying to figure out why I shut myself down as soon as we got in the car, especially when the visit was great. I’m trying to figure out why I burst into tears, only to push them back and tell The Hubby I was just fine, and that “I didn’t want to talk”. When all I wanted was to let them flow, and sob. I wanted to be brave, but I wanted to fall apart. So I opted to go a little numb.
That’s why I’m flailing a little right now. Perhaps it’s the fact that I learned how little information they were told about The Kiddo after he was born. Perhaps it’s the discussion we had about certain players, my parents in particular that’s stirring up some undiscovered feelings. Perhaps it was seeing his room, with his well loved stuffed animals on his bed. Perhaps it’s just a post-visit emotional letdown.
I have no idea. For now, inward feels safest. I want to be invisible, and unseen. I want my tears to go unnoticed, and my heart to beat a little slower. I want my dreams not to be filled of images of his room and him. I just want to be free from this incredible bittersweet, heartache, if only for a couple of days.
Maybe tomorrow will seem brighter, and some comprehension will be found. Maybe tomorrow I will smile a little bigger, and the tears will be finished their threats. Maybe I’ll be able to share the beauty of this simple visit.
Today, I will just survive. Today I will just be. Today I am breathing, and turning to the person I know better than anyone else. Who knows this pain better and understands the way I deal with it.
Today, I feel safest on the inside.