going back to work

Work. Typically not a place people particularly enjoy.

I dreaded it.

I took a week off.... only to go back with a panic attack on the way there that morning. I tried to make myself as presentable as possible.... makeup and all. I was so afraid of the comments and the looks that would come my way.

Everyone was cordial. They asked how I was feeling.... and as I choked back the tears the only two syllables I could muster were "o.k.".

I wasn't okay. I was a trainwreck. I cried myself to sleep every night. I slept with Gabby's robe. I was torn between wanting my husband to hold me and wanting to be completely isolated. I didn't know who I was anymore. I looked in the mirror and didn't even recognize myself. I was not a pretty sight.

My soul cried out from deep inside my all hours of the day. I was completely broken.

Seeing my son made me think of all of the things that I would never see Gabby do.

I arrived at work and went straight to my desk.  I didn't say much to anyone. They gave me flowers, and even though I was completely touched by the gesture having everyone stare at me for a reaction made the tears flow.

At work, I tried to focus on what I needed to do... until my phone rang and the doctor's office showed up on caller id.

I was told they were doing chromosone testing. Maybe they finally had some answers for me.

I answered, and it was a different nurse than I had talked to before. Her name was Judy.

She was calling me to say that surgery was successful and that the "products of conception" had been removed.

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

I asked her if this was a sick joke. Who calls someone to tell them that?

I felt a fire rise with in me. You know, when people have surgery, it's to remove something that they wanted gone.

I didn't want Gabrielle to be taken away. I wanted her with me so badly my insides hurt.

How was this supposed to be a success? Why didn't they tell me that I'd be receiving this kind of call?

Why had this ever happened?

I asked when the choromosonal testing would be done and she told me they'd contact me. Again no answers.

I hated work. It made me leave the safety of my house.... the safety of a place I could cry, and scream, and rest. Leaving the house put me in an unsafe position... I couldn't control who I saw, what I saw, or what I heard.

That day, a coworker announced the birth of their grandchild and a mass e-mail was sent to everyone with her grand-daughter's picture.  I wasn't prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for anything.

The darkness consumed me. I started hating everyone and everything. I hated everything that wasn't Gabrielle with me.

I yelled at God on the way home that day. I'm sure people driving by wished they had waited until I was off the road, but I didn't care. I screamed at him for taking her. I berated him for abandoning me when I needed him. I cried out to him asking why he ever gave me her to begin with if he was just going to take her away anyway.

And I went home again, locked myself in the bedroom, and cried until I could do nothing but sleep.