"Get rid of it, get rid of it, get rid of it"

My life is numb, I am numb but it is fading now. Reality is pressing down on my shoulders as acceptance is knocking on the door. This is to much, I am not ready to accept this...even though I know deep down I have no choice in the matter. Gabriel has passed and with every sun set and sunrise it is becoming more painful to realize the truth of my situation. It was hard to move out of my in laws house, I finally had to face all those hidden reminders that seemed scattered in just about every unexpected spot. Gary still couldn't take down the Christmas lights he had hung...

I knew it was time for us to leave, to grow up and stand on our own two feet but all my memories with Gabriel are in that house, it seems ridiculous because I know we can still go visit. But our room will now be someone else's, the room where we conceived him, where his daddy read to him, where I would lay in bed just feeling his precious movement. I regret taking down the crib so soon after his death, everyone told me to take it down, they even offered to take it all down before I got home from the hospital....but something felt so wrong about it. I remember coming back to the house on the evening of March 30th, I opened the bedroom door to collect my things to go stay with my mom and the air hit me. The silence in the room, the emptyness in my tummy...I walked over to the crib and ran my hands across the sheet as tears slipped from my eyes. In that moment nothing made sense to me, this wasn't how I had planned any of this.

I was under false hope that getting rid of everything would make me feel better, make the world seem a little less scary even...I was wrong. Even now I try to get rid of his diapers, the clothes, the bedding...but why? My heart doesn't want to but my body keeps doing it, I keep telling myself "he never got to where it so it shouldn't matter", "he won't need diapers now so it shouldn't matter", "he has his blanket and teddy bear in his casket, it shouldn't matter". What I am finding is that it DOES matter, it is the stuff of a future that was supposed to exist but somehow doesn't. It is the stuff of months and months of planning and dreaming for someone that would never be able to breathe their first breath or cry their first cry. Why am I so hell bent on getting rid of it?