Two Places at Once

I haven't written a single thing in a couple of weeks now. Nothing here. Nothing private. I had even been selected to submit something for an anthology of pieces about baby loss and grief, but never did "get around" to writing it.

In truth, I've been pretty overwhelmed. And though I haven't written anything, there hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't had SOMETHING on my mind worth writing about. But it seems that every time something comes up, I've got my hands full of my crying baby boy. Or I'm rewashing the same load of towels for the 3rd time because I never can seem to get them from the washer to the dryer. I've got a to=do list a mile long and I feel like I'm failing at mostly everything.

I have things I want to do around the house.
Things I want to do to get ready for Christmas.
Things I want to do for Brayden.
Things I want to do for Ryan.

And it seems, and probably rightfully so, that Brayden is the only one who gets my attention and focus. I'm struggling to know what he needs. How to tend to those needs when I do figure it out. And just when I think I've got him figured out, it changes. Just when I think we've settled into a routine that'll let me get to those other things on my list, I'm back to the beginning of trying to figure it all out. 

We're over a month in to our time together and most days I feel no more settled in than I did the day we brought him home.

The only time I feel sure of anything are those moments when he's content. When we're cuddling on the couch. When he's got a cranky belly and the only thing that makes him calm down is being held close to me. 

But the rest of the time? When he's crying. When he won't be put down. When he cries to eat and then doesn't finish the bottle. When he's making sucky faces after he's just eaten entirely too much but then won't even take his soother... I'm at a loss. And if I do get him to finally calm down, to nap a little bit, I'm too spent to do anything else. To get those towels out of the washing machine. To vacuum up the tumbleweeds of dog hair so I can maybe start putting up a few Christmas decorations. To go to the damn cemetery to visit with my other child. To get outside and finish off the winterizing of that same child's garden. Even though the snow has already come.

I don't mean to complain. 

I just feel like I'm having a hard time doing right by all those things and people I want to do right by. And even when I'm only focusing on doing right by my baby -- the one who is here on earth with me -- I don't even feel like I AM doing right by him.

I've had a million other things I've wanted to write about here. But for now, for today, I think I just needed to vent. To get this all out there.

I needed to say that sometimes, even when you're finally gifted everything you wished for and hoped for, it's not easy. And it's even harder to admit that you might not even be very good at it. The fantasy is not the reality. It is not easy to parent a baby here and a baby apart from yourself. And I think it's all made a little extra heavy with the holidays in full swing. I'm back to wanting the world to take a pause so I can catch up. I need time to stand still for a second so I can get myself back on track. 

I'm rambling. 

But I suppose that makes sense. Just a glimpse at my scattered brain. My divided brain. A part of it here. A part of it there.