March 15, 2010

I’m back at work, part time only for a while, but I cried as I left the house this morning, as I took my breast pump and left Dot, who was (hopefully) drifting into her morning nap as she danced in the arms of her daddy.

I’ve never been apart from her this long.

I would really rather not be apart from her for this long for at least another year, but so go the realities of my finances and workplace.

I would have felt this way with Teddy, too, but if he’d been born healthy and thriving, if he’d lived, I probably wouldn’t feel this irrational sense of entitlement. I should get to spend all the time I want with my daughter, after losing my son, shouldn’t I? I ask this of the universe somewhat hysterically, my voice going up in pitch until it’s a near-hysterical shriek.

Shouldn’t I, damn it?

I order books and fix a few web pages and annotate some document I wrote last year, and exchange pleasantries with the few colleagues who are in over the spring break.  I sit here with her photographs on my computer screen as I long for the weight of her in my arms again, for her sleepy, milky smell to fill my nose.  It’s full of aching, this day, full of ouch.

But in not too long I get to do something else that I never got to do with Teddy – I get to go home to her.  And this is a dear, dear thing that I am not taking lightly, about which I don’t dare be ungrateful.  So I stew in the gratefulness and ungratefulness that is today, wishing I were home, wishing I could go home to them both.


  1. Erica, it really does seem you should have been allotted more exclusive home with Dot time. The anticipation of going home to both and the wish to go home to both is part of the forever bittersweet twist.

  2. ((hugs)) what bitter-sweetness.

  3. Ouch indeed.
    Thinking of you and both your babies, Erica.

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