For months I have been noticing that I was stuck. Bitter and angry and so mad that where there lives one, there should be two.  I carried this stuckness with me everywhere: to breakfast, to my baby music class, to my stroller exercise class, to coffee, to my local mom group, to the store- you name it, wherever I was, there came along that stuckness.

It was weighing on me so heavily, that it finally became too much to hold. And luckily there were a few people around me that could see I was at my breaking point.

One of them was my therapist.

She kept telling me we had more work to do, and I knew what that meant. She was very aware of what I was doing in our sessions. I was going round and round in a circle that I couldn’t tangent off of to get free of that same heaviness I’ve been carrying.  So, she suggested a new plan of action in the form of Complicated Grief Treatment.

So here I am in week 4 of treatment, and this week’s main focus has been to record my recollection of the precise moment Luca left his body, and listen to it everyday. It has been even harder than I thought. But for a much different reason than I imagined- it’s jogging my memory and bringing the days surrounding Luca’s birth and death back into focus.

And it’s made me remember

His smell.

The feeling of his body weight on my heart and shoulder. 

The sutures on his head from where the brain activity monitor had been placed. 

The lighting of the room as sunset approached.

Seeing his beautiful face for the first time, and recognizing him as my own. 

The internal dialogue I had with myself, where I was certain if I could get his skin to touch mine, that I could fix him. 

It’s heartbreaking all over again. I’m not running away from it though, and I never really have. But I am hoping this treatment offers me a a different response, or a way to be able to bounce back from the sad.

So now I’ve found myself getting angry. Angry that this is my work. Angry that I have to listen to it everyday. It makes my blood boil.

And that’s how I know it’s working. Because in all of this discomfort, I know there is growth happening, soul expanding, and that this is right where I am supposed to be.

Retelling. Learning. Embracing the courage and surrendering to it all. Getting out of the roundabout I was on, and headed, one step in front of the other, to the next part of this journey.