I think I wrote about this already, but I was thinking about it on our stroller walk today.
In the book, the kid dies. Because that happens sometimes. Sometimes kids die and there's nothing you can do about it. Even when you try, the kid still dies. The mom is beating the dog to death, and the dad shows up and says, "How long has he been dead?" You turn your back for a second to kill a rabid dog and your kid dies. Life is fucked.
But, hey, we can't make a movie where a kid dies. That'll bring people down. Kids don't die. And if they do, we sure as hell don't talk about it.
Well, fuck me, my baby died and I just wanted to watch a movie where a kid died and I can't even have that.
It's been five months. I listened to my deadbaby songs playlist while we walked. In case you're wondering, it's just titled "Songs" on my Zune. And I thought about my deadbaby and walked and waited for my livebaby to fall asleep.
Yesterday at the zoo, we're getting off the carousel and Susan's putting Benny in the stroller. She freezes. Then, "Ohmygod," she says, " I couldn't feel Katie breathing."
Oh, hey, my baby really is dead.
I started reading the memorial plaques that are stuck to almost every single thing at the zoo. She might've found it a little morbid. And I said something like "more people need to die so we can get more stuff here." Oh, I hope I don't make her hate me.
Rhonda's baby shower is tonight. I need to finish her gift.
I don't want to go.
But I guess I'm going.
Hey, yay, you're having a baby girl. Congratulations. My baby is dead. Deadbaby, deadbaby, deadbaby. My baby girl is dead for five months today. Happy fucking baby shower.
Five months. Am I supposed to be over it? I'm not.
We were talking about Christmas last night. Josh isn't getting the forced vacation he usually gets. I'm disappointed. I mentioned wanting to go to my parents and he told me he was only getting Christmas Eve off. I'm dreading everything about Christmas but I was looking forward to getting to spend some extra time together. And now all I get is another miserable holiday weekend at the in-laws where no one says a single thing to me.
Hey, I'm not over it. I'll never be over it.
