Lost Time

The next few months are a blur.  I'm sure that I was in fact there, but I have no memories of what happened.  I basically just existed.  I went to physical therapy three times a week, because I had to.  I went to psychotherapy appointments once a week, because I had to, and I went to Dr.. appointments weekly, because I had to.  Other than that, I'm not really sure what else happened.

I was still very quiet about the adoption.  Only a handful of people knew what happened.  I had secluded myself so much that almost all of my friends and all of my family except my mom and dad didn't know.  My dad never mentioned Ryan and that broke my heart.  It hurt my mom too much to talk about her grandson who was gone, and that broke my heart, and I could only feel the huge hole in my heart that that little boy could only fill.

I do remember getting pictures in the mail.  It was so painful.  I would get the envelope and feel it's weight and know that there were pictures inside.  Immediately I would cry.  I wouldn't open it, I just cried.  I would set the envelope on my dresser and as long as I cried when I looked at it, I wouldn't open it.  Finally, when I could hold it in my hand without tears (sometimes this could take weeks), I would open it, read the wonderful letter, cry, put down the pictures without looking at them, then eventually, I would look at the beautiful little baby that was no longer mine, and cry.