Thursday, September 16, 2010

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

It was a less-than-good day. Just a long string of triggers, one right after the other.

I woke up feeling sadder than usual.

I made a smoothie for breakfast and finally used up some of the frozen mango chunks in the freezer—they used to be a staple for Hudson’s snack.

Ed and I walked to work together (him to the metro, me to my office just beyond) and realized it was the first time we’d done that since before Hudson was born.

Once I got to work, I got a message from the Southwest executive who has been helping us saying that they still haven’t found the journal, that they would keep looking, but that it “seems like it must not have made it through our normal process.” I called Ed from the law school student lounge to tell him and had my first crying fit on the job.

Then I had to sit through two hours of benefits orientation, learning about emergency room co-pays and hospital services and the 24-hour medical line that would be available (something in hindsight I wish I’d thought to use in the wee hours of May 10 with my old plan—maybe they would have told me to go the ER ASAP). And about life insurance for dependent children—apparently they’re not worth anything until they are 14 days old. From 14 days to 6 months, they are worth $500. And between 6 months and 19 years, you can get up to $10,000 for them. WTF?

By the time I was done with that, I just wanted to go home and cry. And it was only 2:00.  At 4:00, I did go home and cry. 

Three days to recover and then it’s back for more on Monday. I know it will get better. And then it will get worse. And then it will get better. It is what it is. I miss my little girl and I want her back. Everything else is background noise.

16 comments:

  1. You made it through the day. Good for you. Tomorrow's another one. Rooting for you.

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  2. My heart just breaks for you and Ed over and over again. We are rooting for y'all too and sending love, strength, and peace your and Ed's way.
    Brigid

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  3. Going back to work was really a struggle for me. Especially because I worked with kids. I came home and took lots of xanex the first few weeks. Sending love and light.

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  4. Thinking of you, and sending hugs.

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  5. Big hugs, Mandy. One day at a time. Don't think about tomorrow. Olivia

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  6. I had you on my mind, Mandy, and decided to visit your blog. I think about you guys daily. You are so strong for continuing to move forward so beautifully on this very difficult journey.

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  7. I'm so sorry you had a tough day, Mandy. I'm thinking of you all the time and sending you much love and hope for better days.

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  8. a ski instructor once told me, 'if you're not falling down, you're not making progress because you're not pushing yourself outside your comfort zone.' I don't really ski, but I think of those words sometimes, especially when I'm scared or when I face setbacks. I know it's not the same. I hope this doesn't come off as trite. I sincerely hope that you can struggle through the painful days so you can start gliding down some awesome (metaphorical) slopes again one day. Thinking of you, Ed and Hudson, continuing to pray. love, Kate Z.

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  9. What a crappy day. I'm so sorry. May there be one good thing in your tomorrow.

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  10. Hang in there, Mandy. You are an inspiration to us all.

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  11. Aw, Mandy, I'm sorry. Your last line is gut-wrenching. One foot in front of the other is all you can expect of yourself right now. And you're doing THAT very, very well.
    Big hugs from Tennessee,
    Claire

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  12. You have been in my thoughts Mandy. I found it really tough going back to work. It's so hard to sit through all those stuff about benefit orientation and so on. It just sounds like so much nonsense and of such very little importance. I used to feel like screaming sometimes, "How can you be so preoccupied with this stupidity!" Still do sometimes I'm afraid. It really does feel like background noise and I can scarcely believe that, once upon a time, I was interested in my job.

    I'm so sorry about Ed's journal. I was really hoping it would turn up when you've done such a brilliant job alerting loads of people to it. Fingers crossed there's still a chance.

    I'm also sorry about all those triggers. The dependent children payouts, the walk to the metro. To be honest, you had me in tears at the frozen mango chunks.

    You are right. I think that it will get worse, it will get better, it will get worse. Like the tide. Sending you strength. x

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  13. I'm sorry you had a hard day, Mandy. Thinking of you always and sending love.

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  14. It sounds like you had an especially draining day. I'm sorry. Like many others who've commented, I greatly admire your courage and resolve to continue moving, even if sometimes it feels like you're moving backwards instead of forwards. Don't beat yourself up for the bad days. They happen, and they'll continue to happen, but as the saying goes, if you're going through hell, keep going. You can do it.

    I'm wishing you more good days than bad, and continued comfort as you grieve your tragic loss. My heart breaks to think of you going through this. We're all here for you, rooting for you and Ed from near and far.

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  15. As always, sending you guys good vibes and prayers. For what it's worth, I am continually amazed at how brave you have been. While you may see the tears, we all see a tough, strong woman and mother. I really look up to you for putting yourself out there, through your blog, through work, and through everything else.

    -Sara

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  16. You are very brave. You are getting through this with so much courage and grace. You'll always be her mommy, no matter what, and I bet Hudson is proud of you for being so strong.

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