One good thing about falling apart is having the opportunity to put yourself back together. You have the chance to rebuild yourself; better, stronger, more capable than before.
Though I've slowly been putting the pieces of my life back together since the day we lost Ryan, it's only been in the last 3 or 4 weeks that I've consciously put in the effort to get myself more whole again. I floundered before, trying to figure out what my purpose would be now that I wouldn't be mothering a baby here on earth. And although I still struggle with not having him here, I know now that my purpose is still to go out and live the best life that I can.
To do that I have to start with me.
Along with Rich, I've been eating healthier, going to the gym or working out at home, watching less TV, reading more, and taking "me-time" to do whatever it might be that I feel is needed on that day to feel my best.
And it's been working. Even on my sad days, I feel stronger. And on the days when I don't feel strong, I don't feel the need to beat myself up for feeling so sad.
I'm taking a class at the gym that's a combination of yoga, Pilates, and Tai-Chi. It improves my breathing, my flexibility, my balance, and my strength. All things I need both physically and mentally these days. Every class ends with about 5 minutes of breathing and meditation. We lay flat on our backs and try to melt away. Let me tell you, I am terrible at it. After all 4 classes so far, I have ended up with tears rolling down my face. To me, meditation = silence. And silence seems to translate into thinking. And when I think, my thoughts float away to Ryan. As if she's staring right at me (I don't know, because my eyes are closed), the instructor always says, "If you feel your thoughts running away from you, focus on your breathing." This makes it worse. I end up thinking about the rise and fall of my chest. And then it morphs (every. single. class) into this vision of a baby's chest, underneath some cute little sleeper, rising and falling. And I think of Ryan. Again. And how I didn't get that with him. And I cry a little harder.
Somehow I manage to pull it together before she tells us to open our eyes. And I leave the class feeling strong and good about myself. But determined to go into the next class more focussed on being present.
It's not an easy road to putting myself back together. But it's one I'm embracing every day.
I am a work in progress. I'm rebuilding.