Every now and then I get this brief flash of insight into why some people- I’m struggling to phrase this right- might consider your death to be, not small, but smaller than it is. At least to me. But it is a brief insight, and before I can get my head around it, it’s gone.

My mum and I had what I think is our first real disagreement the other night. First since I lost you. I was talking about the people, friends, who struggle with me talking about you. I said it was tough, I needed to do it and they should let me, and she felt she had to stand up for them. Which I felt was standing against me. I think in a friendship you rally to the side of whoever is needing of support. Otherwise, why do we give so much of our energy and our care to these people? I’ve lost two friendships in these last months. Both through absence. I won’t say I’ve lost the friends, but our relationships can never recover to what they were.

Jake has always said I give too much of myself to other people, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I give a lot, but I realise I expect a lot too. It’s why I don’t have enough friends to be able to lose them like this. But I also feel like I don’t have enough energy to be able to share it with people who won’t give it back. Or can’t.

At the mall this morning I saw a picture of Miss O., a baby I nursed who had leukaemia and who was on our ward for months. I recognised her beautiful, big, bald head straight away. I was laughing at her gorgeous face popping up at me out of nowhere and thinking how happy I am that she’s doing so well, and then I was crying. No in-between. Riding up the escalator, in public again. I’m sure there are a lot of people in Brisbane thinking “that redhead looks like she needs her meds adjusted”. Oh well.

I was telling Jake last night that I’d had some advice from a woman who’d had a stillbirth, and he remarked that he’d much rather have had a miscarriage than a stillbirth, and something about this being hard enough. But by then I was already bristling, asking him not to say things like that to me because I didn’t think it really helped. Now I think he was talking about himself, not about me. I think I’m still giving too much of my energy and attention to you and not enough to your Daddy. I wasn’t the only one who loved you. 

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