Hi.  I’ve been gone a really long time.  I think it started with the art panels I mentioned in my last text based post.  Update: they got done.  They got done by the skin of my teeth (you’ll have to excuse me, I’m no good with “saying” but I try to use them anyway).  I stayed up for 22 hours straight and poured my heart and soul into each and everyone of them.  Even the ones that I thought were nonsense and me just trying to throw something on the panel, turned out to have emotion behind them.  It was an amazing process.  

When I hung them up on the gallery wall, it was a strange feeling.  I felt like we had lost Harrison all over again.  It was like living through his death again although this time I had no painkillers.  It was about him.  It was about me. It was about our journey together.  And it made me miss him so much.  

At the show I got really drunk.  Really, really drunk.  I called my parents at 3am and made them promise me that there would be another baby.  That I would get to take a baby home and give it all of the love I have.  Of course, in the morning, I realized how stupid this was.  No one can promise me a baby.  No one but God.  

Once, soon after we lost Harrison, a voice in my head said, “You will have another baby and it will be sooner than you think.”  So when the anxiety starts taking over,  I practice breathing and I focus on that voice.  Sometimes I try and tell myself that the voice was just my desperation.  That I fabricated the voice of God in my head to make me feel better.  But when I really get to thinking about it, I know that it’s not true.  I know that it wasn’t me fabricating a voice.  I know that it was my promise and that soon, I’ll be pregnant and soon there will be a baby to take home.  

Saturday was kind of rough.  I’ve been working on these panels for my upcoming art show on May 4h and I wanted to get 10 panels done.  I think I got 1 and a half done.  Which leaves me with 23 panels left. It’s a ton of pressure.  I didn’t think it would be this hard.  

The panels are based on the emotions/thoughts that have come along since we lost Harrison.  It seems that every time I make a panel, I open a wound.  There’s been some crying, but not as much as I thought there would be.  It seems that I’m fine when I’m making these panels.  But the day after, I feel melancholy.  It’s not sad, it’s not total annihilation, it’s just…melancholy.  Kind of this underlying feeling that I will never get to hold my son.  I’ll never get to look down from my desk and see a chubby, dark haired, green eyed little boy sitting on the floor playing with the vintage pull toys that hang out in the corner.  I’ll never get to bake him a birthday cake and watch him smash it all over his face.  

I’m opening the wounds that I worked so hard to heal.  But scar tissue makes you tougher.  Focusing these horrible feelings that I had experienced right after we lost Harrison is showing me how far I’ve come.  It’s showing me that I’m getting stronger by the day.  It’s strange.