…or something like that.
It was a difficult week. There was still laundry to do, meals to cook, and children to teach. My middle still garnered a pat or two during the day and then I would remember, “oh, she’s not there anymore…” And the dumbest things would set the tears flowing, like looking at the empty milk bucket and thinking how my baby would never get any from me. I got plenty of loving and prayers from everyone (thank you soooo much), and even had some laughs, but my insides felt hollow much of the time. And it wasn’t just because I had lost my appetite.
I’m thankful my body healed so well and so quickly. I drank up at least a good gallon or two of herbal tea (red raspberry, shepherd’s purse, nettle, oatstraw & alfalfa), and took in a half a bottle of post-pregnancy tincture I made for rebuilding (horsetail, burdock and chickweed). I took my herbal and salt baths of uva ursi, lavender, myrrh, comfrey, cypress, and yes, more shepherd’s purse. And then to balance it all out, I ate a full box of homemade truffles and three large servings of homemade creme brulee.
We all said our “good-bye’s” last night in the garage. It was late. It was raining. I didn’t care. I wanted her out of the fridge and put to rest.
My husband held the wee quilt I made for her–she fit right into the little square in the middle–and talked a little about life and death and of course GOD because how could you not in a time like this?
Goodbye, baby. I love you.