Sometimes I wonder

I think since Noah died I've done a lot more 'thinking', a lot more 'day dreaming', a lot more wondering, reliving, what if-ing....
Sometimes I wonder just how much I've changed, and how I've changed.
I am I, and so, I don't know! Well, that's not entirely true- I know I've changed a bit- In some ways I'm much more compassionate, and in some ways, I just don't give a damn anymore.
I wish I was in the minds of those who knew me before and after Noah's short life... I wish I knew how I've changed.
It would be interesting to be a fly on the wall of a conversation between colleagues at my old place of work, or between family members when I'm not around.
I think I've learned to just zone out when something triggers a 'bad day'. It's like I have desensitized myself, taught myself to 'be normal', by just not feeling.
And this isn't all the time- beleive me I have some awfully bad days sometimes. bad days that probably look bad to anyone who has the unfortunate luck to grace my path on that day.
But often- I just... go blank, zone out.
I don't want to. I've learned it's good to feel.
Often I hear other people bad news- and I'm completly desensitized- sure I feel sad for them- or at least I  know I should.
Maybe this wonderful community I have had the unfortunate experience of being a part of (the BLMs) are all this way in my stage of grief.. I don't know.. but it's weird.

I'm not even sure I'm making sense. I guess it is that, most days, I don't feel the major highs and lows of emotion- I think it's that I don't let myself. I just stay 'even keel Jane'... low reaction, low excitment.. just blah.

Humm..  weird.
Is it weird?
Do you guys feel this way sometimes too?

Jane

Dearest Noah Bear
I love you, I miss you, I'm sorry.
You are the bestest little boy in Mummy's eyes- always and forever my first baby, the one who made me a mother. The boy who has a piece of my heart!

Love you forever,
Mummy

he was here...

I just finished a statistics canada telephone survey that took 1hr and 4 minutes to complete.... and not even a mention about my son... Sure they asked how many pregnancies I've had... and how old I was when I was pregnant. But since I had to list the people living in my house, I guess the assumed  I misscarried the first pregnancy. They didn't ask me how many live births I had. I guess if you say how many living people are in the house- and you only say one child- then the other must have no made it to birth..... in their eyes.

I really wanted to jump through the phone and say- Hey Stats. Can.- babies die- my baby died- he should be here living with us in this house- you should ask me about his sleep patterns, eating, and motor skills- like you did Charlotte... but... I wouldn't know the answer- because he isn't here. But he WAS here.. He existed- but to you- that's not even worth ink- since it isn't even written down.
I don't know why this frustrated me.. but it did.
I want people to know- He was here- I birthed him, I love him, he is part of the family. He just died way too early.
I wish I knew how he ate, slept and walked, if he had ongoing medical issues, asthma, ear infections... I wish I could answer all those questions.. I guess I wasn't frustrated at the person on the other end of the phone...  I am frustrated that my life doesn't include my son, and that slowly in the world of other people, he's becoming invisible and insignificant. Frustrated that I don't know the answers to questions that every mother should know. Just plain frustrated.
Those who have been in my shoes know what I mean. Those who don't, probably don't... probably think that 'he'll never be insignificant or invisible'.. those who have been in my shoes know that ... no matter what- to the mother who is missing them- their light begins to fade in others eyes... we do everything we can to keep it burning..... but sometimes... they just aren't a part of the survey.

Jane