Ronan. A few weeks ago, I told your daddy, “I think I can be o.k. if we put Poppy’s crib in Ronan’s room.” He looked at me, startled, and told me hearing those words out of my mouth gave him a lot of anxiety. I said those words a few weeks ago, and nothing had been done until today. My thinking behind this came down to two things. 1) If you were still here, you would be sharing a room with Poppy anyway, and 2) I am so tired and sad of walking past your empty room, day after day and night after night. Your room is big enough that there is enough space to leave your side pretty much the same; we will change the other side where the extra bed is. We are leaving your bed and will put Poppy’s crib on the other side of the room. We will do things to your room to make it poppy-friendly, too. Initially, we planned to add another room, but that is not a project I could mentally take on. Living in a construction zone with a new baby was nothing I felt up for, and I’m still dealing with the whole, “I don’t want to do too much until Poppy is here.”Poppy is almost here. I have about three weeks to go, and it’s kind of down to crunch time. I tackled some parts of your room today. All I have to say is fucking fuck fuck fuck. I hated today.
I worked doing what I could do. Cleaning out toys you never played with, clothes you never wore, and books you never read, I worked fast and hard, sobbing with everything I touched. Your daddy helped and kept telling me that enough was enough for today. I told him it was not; I still had much to do. Liam found me carrying some books out of your room and sobbing so hard that I was shaking. He wrapped his arms around me, but I couldn’t even uncover my face with my hands to fully embrace him. He ran off and got your daddy to tell him I was crying. At this point, I was back in your closet, running my hands over your little worn-out Uggs that you wore everywhere and pretty much destroyed in New York because you lived in them. I watched as your daddy tried to play the vital role, but he looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at me with a look of disbelief in his eyes that I had not seen in a long time. I saw his heart break again today, right along with mine. Over and over again, our hearts, which sometimes seem to be alright, get shattered once again. The pain on your daddy’s face only made everything worse. I hate so much that he hurts just as much as I do. Your daddy never deserved this kind of pain. None of us did. None of us do. Nobody does.
I started to wash the clothes I had for Poppy. I sobbed with every sock of hers that I folded and every blanket that I washed. I hung up some of her things with your things in your closet. I live in a world of sadness and happiness—where your little hats and sweaters now collide with Poppy pink headbands and socks. I took out the dryer lint after drying some of Poppy’s things today. It was pink. WTF is going on? Never in my life have I had pink dryer lint because I lived in a world where having three boys is all I’ve ever known. How can this be? How can you not be here, really sharing a room with her? I picture it all the time. How much you would have loved having her in your room. I imagined you sneaking over to her in the middle of the night to check on her or to try to wake her up because you would have loved her so much that you would have wanted to play with her 24 hours a day. I think of this, and it only makes me sad. The only thing that helps with this is knowing that you have two older brothers here who will love her extra hard for you. I know your brothers are happy Poppy is going into your room. It will be nice for us all to have some life back there again. Since your daddy won’t let me pack everything up to move out of the country or even out of this house, I will make the best of this situation and compromise for everyone. Your daddy still can’t imagine leaving our home, which is so full of memories of you. I still struggle with being here because it only makes me miss you more.
I dropped your daddy and brothers off at a St. Paddy’s Day party tonight. I didn’t feel like going. I still have a hard time functioning in the everyday world and still have not learned how to put on a plastic fake smile where I pretend that everything is alright. I don’t go out often anymore and am honestly o.k. with that. Maybe someday, things like big groups of people will be o.k., but for now, it still is not. It still feels like a foreign world, and I am not ready to learn a new language yet. I still prefer the dark, underground world I have made up because I live where sunshine and sweet singing birds surround me 24/7. I wanted to shoot those birds and blow up the sunshine today. Can’t somebody turn down this brightness just a bit? Is it too much to ask for the weather to cooperate with my daily mood of gloom and doom? It is when you live in Arizona. I swear a person can overdose on sunshine and happiness here. Happy, ordinary people are everywhere I turn. I think I used to be one of them. I’m not anymore. Nor will I ever be again, and that’s ok.
Alright, my little spicy monkey. I’m sad, mad, angry and tired. I had a hard day. I am going to finish up a few more things in your room. I will forever be sorry it is this way. I love you—G’nite, Ro baby.
xoxo
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