Who's your mommy?

This weekend is DEFINITELY one I'd like to forget.

Emotionally, I've been feeling as badly the last two days as I did right after Ryan's death. I keep having these "whatever" moments which don't easily pass. When I finally shake off those apathetic thoughts, I flop back into the various stages of grief. As I said, emotionally, I'm in a bad way.

One of the things that keeps swirling around in my head is the concept of being a mommy. Sure, I've earned the title in the most technical way - through pregnancy and childbirth - but, I really don't feel that I've earned it through merit. No baby to cuddle and soothe. No dirty diapers to change. No bouts of colic to bear. No middle-of-the-night feedings to manage. Nothing that makes me feel like a mommy, other than my overwhelming sadness for the loss of my precious baby boy.

As another mother in my unfortunate position put it, me accepting the title of "mommy" feels almost fraudulent. Hell, if I didn't have all the physical reminders and battle scars of pregnancy, I'd probably doubt that I really was a mom or that I ever went through any of this. It would be rather easy to convince myself that this was all a horrible nightmare and my reality is actually peaceful and happy. Instead, I'm trapped in my own freakish hell, remembering every second of every day that this really DID happen, and it happened to me.