When I broke up with my first serious boyfriend I was so angry and sad that I got rid of everything that reminded me of him and our almost two years together. I changed perfumes. I changed my wardrobe and I took pride in getting dressed in clothes that I hadn't owned when we were going out. I even changed some of my habits that reminded me too much of him. I changed the guys I noticed. Gone were the quiet, cappucino-drinking, computer types. If a guy ordered a cappucino or said he worked in IT, it was the kiss of death and I moved on faster than you could say, "Bad memories."
When I lost my son I was simply staggering. Getting through the days took everything. Now losing my daughter I am angry again and I am going through a similar purging process as when I broke up. It is less extreme but bagloads of stuff go out the door to the charity shop - bags of wool containing entire knitting projects I was working on during the 5 months of my pregnancy, all my pregnancy clothes, the jersey I wore almost every day, the pregnancy books I bought in eager expectation that this time it would work - and I don't look at any photos from that time. I just can't. If I could I would erase those five months totally from my history. It just seems like such a waste; a waste of H and my time and energy, a terrible, tragic waste of a little life, just a waste of hoping.
"You seem bitter," says a friend. Mmm, you don't say.