Void

I had a major meltdown last night. The whole day my tears were so close to the surface, it threatened to burst out once the right trigger comes along. It took all my strength to keep it at bay so I could function first, then break down later. I had to run errands, meet people and generally do things that require me to be 'normal'. And it was tough. I kept wanting to runaway and hide.

Finally, when everything's done I immediately retreated indoors, told my husband to answer the phone or the door, because I won't be coming out for anything. I just wanted to lay in bed and cry my eyes out. The repressed feeling was so heavy to carry, so overwhelming that I wanted to purge it and let this grief have its way.

I have been feeling so alone lately. Everytime I go out on my own, I feel that my son should be with me. When I was pregnant, I've gotten used to having him with me all the time - in all my moments, wherever I go or whatever I do, he was with me literally. Kai was my constant companion.

When I drove myself to yoga class or doctor's appointment, I would talk to him as if he was right there beside me on the passenger seat. During meals, I would talk to him about the food I was eating or the day I've been having like he was a confidante. Or on quiet moments, I would sing songs and read books out loud with him as my captive audience.

So when I was nearing my due date, I felt a bit sad that he won't be inside me anymore. I knew our separation was inevitable, in fact, necessary, but being together for nine months I was attached and bonded to him so much I was sure I would be afflicted with post partum phantom baby syndrome. It's not really a clinical illness (I just made it up, by the way), but I knew it was exactly how I'd feel after he's born.

It doesn't matter. I'd take him wherever I go, I thought then. I even went as far as to declare, "He can't be without me, I can't be without him," to my husband when we were discussing how we'd go about outings and holiday trips with our son. For me, the extent of our connectedness was very tight knit.

Back then, I had a difficult time envisioning that in a few days he would no longer be in my womb, that I wouldn't be carrying him around everywhere I go anymore. When I recall that now I really think how silly and shallow it was. It didn't occur to naive me that something so much worse could happen. Something that would surpass my then short-lived sadness at the prospect of being physically separated from Kai.

And it all came back to me - all that pain, all that sadness, all that grief of losing him and missing him after. I feel so lonely and empty now. I'm like a walking nothing. I go about my daily life normal-like and in-control. But deep inside, I feel nothing. I have nothing. Each day I struggle to find meaning or purpose again. But sometimes, I fail miserably. My life is not supposed to be this way, I said in-between my sobs last night.

It was supposed to be a life with my son. Not a life WITHOUT him.