I have been selfish. At least, that's what I was told today. And, you know what's interesting? I didn't even think about denying it. Depending on how you define "selfish" it could be - should be - absolutely true. For one of the first times in my life, I feel completely comfortable owning that designation.
Is my desire to create a safe, insulated bubble around me selfish? Is my lack of desire to go out in big groups and spend hours on end socializing selfish? Is my need to spend large chunks of time alone, looking at pictures you selfish? Is my need to avoid people and places when I feel I might be toxic selfish? Is my avoidance of holidays because they all remind me of my last holiday with you totally selfish? After losing you - the center of my world, my life, my existence - is it so wrong for me to be a little selfish?
There is no guidebook for surviving the loss of your child. There are no set rules or timelines. I have no idea what it looks like to do this well. Good days are sometimes followed by more good days. More often, they are not. And, the bad days are awful. What I know is every morning the reset button is hit, and I start from ground zero all over again.
Peanut, I just want to make you proud. I don't want you to worry. But, I can't deny that your loss has been paralyzing. It has changed every fiber of my being. Do I think the new me is a selfish person? No. Do I think I need to be in self-presevation mode (read: selfish) for a little while? Definitely. I ask the world to cut me a little slack. Just for a little while. And, Peanut, I ask for you to be patient with Momma - especially on the icky days.
Please know I love you bunches and oodles of noodles, my sweet, spectacular Peanut. To the moon and back.