Coming up for air

I've been down, down, down, down, down.  For some reason, I can't get the some of the icky things people said to me while I was abroad out of my head.  There were way more nice things said to me than awful - but the awful stuff sticks.  I hate it.  I keep going over the these icky things over and over again.  Ted tells me to let them go - and I would like to - but they just keep popping up.  I don't understand why certain people's instinct is to shame me when they hear Maxie's story.

The other thing that I can't seem to stop thinking is this: If the purpose of life is the pursuit of happiness, what does that mean for Ted and I?  A large part of me will always be unhappy.  I feel unsettled and incomplete every hour of every single day.  Nearly every hour of every day, I go over and over and over and over the moments of the day Max stopped breathing.  The vision of Max in the Intensive Care Unit, hooked up to machines, eyes closed, breathing only because a machine was doing the breathing for him...it takes my breath away.  How can I ever be happy with this vision in my brain?  How?

And just when I think that the whole thing is going to swallow me alive.....

Just now - another bereaved mother that I some spent some time (too little) with last week in Israel - called me.  She reached out across the ocean to check in on me.  She wanted to tell me that she knows how I feel - because she does.  And, I am so so sorry that she actually knows how I feel but it feels so grounding to talk to someone who knows.  I told her that I read an article online about her son which said that his favorite book had been Goodnight Moon - something I hadn't known about him - something that I believe connects our boys up in heaven.  I cried (am still crying) to her about my broken heart, all the while feeling bad about potentially unleashing those feelings in her again (and again, and again).  I've been thinking about her since I left Israel.  It was so nice to hear her voice.

Somehow the key is to hold on to the people that understand and/or who care and wash my hands of those who don't.  I know this - I really do - but I can't seem to really do it consistently.  I wish I could just shut out the noise and insensitivity instead of letting it pierce my heart so intensely.  They really aren't worth my time and there are SO many people who are.  I needed that reminder this morning because I've been drowning.  It was time to come up for some air.