I am feeling a bit better today. I've only cried six times. I don't know if I feel better today because I took two Ativan last night (and man did I sleep well once they kicked in at 5am) or because my brain needed a break from the misery.
For months now (almost three, if you're counting) I've had a room full of Roo's things - tiny clothes and toys, pink-and-yellow bedding, burp cloths, blankets, a picked-over diaper bag. And today ... it is all packed away.
Empty. My room is empty. No, not empty in the strictest sense of the word. The pile of Roo accouterments has been replaced by a few stacks of purple latching tote boxes, each organized and neatly labeled. The only real evidence that a baby ever lived here is the dismantled crib and upright crib mattress in the living room. And, certainly, if you were to look in the garage you'd see a folded-up stroller, a boxed-up car seat. But the most basic, lovely little reminders of Roo are gone now.
I'm not sure how I feel about it. I cried a few times when I came to a favorite pair of jammies or a particularly sweet little stuffed toy. But for the most part, it felt almost ... good. There was something cathartic, something healing and relieving about packing things up. It felt - dare I say it? - liberating. There is a space in the garage already reserved for those boxes. It will be good to get them out of my room.
I think. I should probably reserve judgment on that until I've slept the night in my room without seeing Roo's gingerbread jammies and play blanket from my spot in bed. Will it be easier or harder not seeing her things?
In any case, it's a relief to finally have things cleaned, folded, organized, sorted and packed away. I feel like maybe it's the first step in getting some semblance of a life back. I'll start with small things - putting baby clothes away - and maybe that'll help me get bigger things done.
I know it's going to be strange to go upstairs into my room and see a different sort of pile in the corner - not stacks of clothes and blankets, but two neat towers of purple plastic. It's going to take a bit of getting used to. But it's done, and it's a start. It's a better empty than I've been feeling.
Roo turned five months old today (the 7th). Where has the time gone? What happened to my teeny-tiny newborn? I'm not sure if that's why I've been so down lately. Is it because she's growing so fast, and I'm missing it? Is it because the adoption will be finalized soon? I wish I knew why. If I knew what the problem was, I could do something about it. But right now, for this little part of today, I feel okay. I hope the feeling lasts. I'm going to need it.