Numb

Everyday for the last week, I've felt like staying curled up in bed under the covers, crying. all. day.

I know more is expected of me, from my family and my job.  And I'm pretty sure that's the only reason i havent been a complete hermit.

I just want to cry.  

Crying makes me feel, temporarily.

Up until recently, I've never given much thought about the people who attended or didn't attend Parker's funeral.  My friends were no where to be found.  Not a single fucking one came to my sons funeral.  Not a single fucking one was there for me when i so desperately needed them.  

Greg's friends came. 

 My Parents friends came.  

Where the fuck were my friends?  

I was the first of all my friends to get pregnant.  

And wouldnt you know it, we all had boys.  

And all of them, except me, brought home their sons.  

I am so thankful and happy for each and every one of them, for having healthy living babies.

I've always provided them with the excuse, because, yes, they were pregnant.  

What pregnant family wants to attend a funeral for a newborn baby boy?  

What pregnant family wants to look at a tiny white casket with blue ribbon tied around white roses lying on top of it? 

But you are my friends.  

Well, at least Im beginning to think you were.  

We dont talk about me when I call (because it always has to be me that calls), its always about you, your kids, your life.  

Never a how are you, or what's going on with you.  

I guess my sadness and needing to talk dont matter.  

Afterall, i have something to be happy about now right.  

I go and talk to a room full of complete strangers, when i want to talk about me.  

You weren't there to listen during my subsequent pregnancy, that should've put me in a mental institution.

  You never heard the fear and trembles in my voice.  

You didn't wipe away the tears, the days and nights before delivering our rainbow baby in the same hospital and operating room that our dead son was delivered in.  

You dont know about the eternity it took for my spinal block to go in, me to get prepped, Benjamin to be pulled out of my belly and for him to start crying.  

You dont know that my voice and my tears changed the moment i heard that boys scream. 

 You dont ask me what its like parenting a son in heaven and a son on earth.  

I dont expect you to say anything, but just be there to listen.  

I dont want it to be all about me all the time, bc that's not the kind of friend i am. 

But for God sakes, I'm tired of it being about you all the time.

I've made new friends via the blog world, who quite frankly, i feel like i've known my entire life.  They email or call just to say that they've been thinking about me and my son or just to say hi.  

They dont need me to post a Facebook reminder when Parker's Birthday and Angelversary roll around. 

Most of these people, I will never meet in real life.  

I can say with complete confidence that should something tragic and devastating happen in my life again, they would drop everything to be there. 

You dont have to know what to say. You dont have to say anything, but physical presence speaks volumes.

"A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely. " 

Pam Brown