Grievance

I was having a chat with another babylost mom last night and she brought up the topic of things she now hates.

There is a dresser, full of her son's baby clothes that she has yet to put away - there is hate there. In preparation for a long stay in the NICU she bought tupperware to conveniently bring food back and forth to the hospital. She hates that too. At one point, she said that it sounded silly to hate tupperware, but - I get it.

I hate going into my daughter's newly painted room. It is a bright and sunny yellow. The day before Sawyer was born, I helped my husband tape the walls because my dad was coming over the next day to paint. It was going to be the baby's room and Sadie's room. And the color we picked was a beautiful sea green.

So, in my closet, sits this bucket of paint. Oh, I hate that bucket.

I bought these cute white baskets - with a checked green liner - just for Sawyer. I had them full of his things, neatly arranged in our linen closet and filled with his little ducky towels, blue bath rags, burp cloths and blankets. I hated those baskets so much that they were one of the first things I begged Erik to take and hide behind the basement stairs after Sawyer died.

I hate the minivan we bought because our family was growing. Now, the seat next to Sadie sits empty. It's ghostly almost.

I hate how Sadie's bedroom feels so empty to me now. There is supposed to be a crib, a changing table, a baby swing. It looks almost barren with just her bed and tall, narrow dresser.

People say that hate is such a strong word. But when your grief takes over you, the hate comes along with it.