Resurfacing

I find myself on the good side of this grief again - the past two days have been hard, yesterday I was still gathering myself from Fridays explosive emotional outburst.  I was just telling L how good I was feeling; two whole days in a row, where my mood has been positive - that was where the "Happy Days' post stems from.  I did feel really quite relieved getting my wonderful pregnancy down, with all the photos and dates added as well.  I have an old style photo album that I brought a week or so after Elizabeth's death and wanted; planned to have that documenting 'our Journey' - the 'Happy Day's post is sort of a rough draft of what is going to be in that album...  when I can put myself to that task of ordering all those photos to be printed.

A comment said, how brave I was to document my pregnancy.  That is not how I feel about it - yes, it did make me so very, very sad to see our last photo together; me asleep in the chair, in the coffee shop, in the city - how I would do anything to go back to that time, change things and live life from then...
How I feel about Elizabeth's pregnancy is...  I don't know, I had a strong and urgent need to change that longing into something that I can hold up as my light, something to be proud and happy about.   I loved being pregnant and I celebrated every moment of it; it is all I had of my baby girl and I wanted all its glory down for me to come back here and see later on.  Just as I will celebrate every other pregnancy I will ever have - no matter how long or short it is.  There is life and I am excited by it, I will anticipate it, I will be over joyed by it and I will hold it tight to my heart - if it is the only time I have with my children, then I will celebrate that with them.  I know it is pessimistic to say such things, but that is all I had with Elizabeth and I want to honour her memory in the best way I know how.

But why I am here in the middle of the night writing now?
I wanted to get down the trigger for this last meltdown, that I'm resurfacing from now, days later.
We went to see the first part of the last H.Potter film.  I loved the books and can see new meaning with these grief goggles on now, but this film is long awaited. I couldn't tell you what I thought of it now, its kind of been erased by the scene that struck me - it was the second last one I think.  I think I cried at least twice that I recall; where his owl was killed and then again when he was standing before his parents gave.  But the scene in question took me back down to the darkest depth of despair I thought I'd climbed out from, totally stunned by the images.  It had me looking at myself on the huge screen in front of me; in full colour, full sound.

The scene was where the house elf was dying in his arms, he was cradling the elf and moved his arm onto his little body - such a loving movement; the elf looked cared for, looked sleeping with his arms close by his side, not left to dangle and uncared for.  And then there was a shot of him holding the elf's hand, holding the elf's fingers around his.

All the while he was sobbing openly into the elf's body, calling his name and telling him to stay.

That was me just three short months ago
That was me up on the screen
Those was my sobs
Those were my tears
Those were my actions
Those were my words
Those were my emotions

And that was our afternoon at the cinema, that is where I've been for the past few days.
I have resurfaced and I can see the positive again, it just took awhile to get back up to the baseline I've been managing now - its a long way from 'normal' I know, but its a start.  I am only just realising how long a road/path this is....

This is my loving you Elizabeth.

A very wise lady told me, 'grieving them is yet another way of loving them. Let yourself love her Tess. Let yourself miss her, and let your heart ache without restriction'.

Oh, how right you are L, how easy it is to love our precious babies.