Thursday, November 15, 2007
Over the past few months, whenever I would think about the days when Owen died and then was born, I would have a physical reaction to it. My heart would start racing, I feel would sick to my stomach, sweating, etc. It would continue until I would feel like I was going to die and I would force myself to think of something else, anything else. I suppose I was having panic attacks, although I don't know for sure. It kept me from dealing with what happened to some degree and made it really hard to share with other people. It's part of the reason that I started this blog 8 weeks after he died. It took me that long to get through writing out his story. I would write a few sentences and then have to stop for awhile until I was sure I was going to survive and then I could start again. I guess I thought it would always be like that. However, things seemed to have changed now. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but I realized yesterday that I was thinking about those days and not feeling that physical reaction. I went and got out the box of his things and went through it. I looked at all the pictures we have of him and cried. I felt sad but not sick. As I sat there and stared at my beautiful little man, I never once had to look away for fear of losing myself completely. I guess this is progress. I guess the intensity of it is fading some. As strange as it is, that makes me a little sad too. I feel like I'm leaving him behind, again.