Monday, June 28, 2010

5w 1d work

I have nothing against work. I like my job. I'm happy to be here. Coming here isn't the problem; it's leaving there.

Once here and focused on work, I experienced small stretches of time where I did not think of Fletcher. When thoughts of him did come rushing back, my guilt at blocking him out was minimal.

But this distance... this space... it is a living thing. Each inch separating us is physical, defined, solid and terrible.

I fed Fletcher at 5:00 a.m., and then pumped until 6:00 a.m. Then I showered and got ready, and fed Fletcher again at 7:00 a.m. Every minute of that feeding I was intensely aware that this is it, after this I'm leaving, driving away, putting more time and distance between us than there has ever been from the moment that he first existed.

Stepping backward away from the cradle was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I tried to get it under control on the drive to work. Thankfully, I was one of the first to arrive, so I didn't have to put on an act and hide the wound left behind when my heart was ripped from my chest. But the quiet and stillness of the office lay coldly on me, and in my mind I hear my baby crying.

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