I should stop now

It is late, and I have spent about seven hours on the computer today. But I find that I am afraid to shut it off.

If I turn the computer off, stand up, walk away, I will have to think, and I will have to feel. And I am tired of feeling.

It may sound strange, but I don't want to think about Roo. I don't want to think about her for a second. Because it hurts too much. It hurts to think that she isn't my Roo anymore, that she's someone else's baby, in someone else's house, wearing a sleeper I didn't buy for her, sleeping in a crib I didn't assemble on a sheet I didn't wash.

The pictures M sent me were nice, but I found that I almost didn't recognize my baby as I looked at them. She had that quickly ceased to be my Roo. The Roo in the pictures wasn't my Roo, with the first and middle and last names I gave her. The Roo in the pictures has a new middle and last name, and new parents.

I spent an hour earlier looking at the pictures I took yesterday - all 217 of them. Roo in a diaper. Roo in a fairy costume. Roo in a sleeper. Roo in a lime green Onesie. Roo sleeping. Roo's tiny feet. Roo's chubby fist. Roo's hair. Roo, Roo, Roo. The pictures were wonderful to see. This was my Roo, the baby I knew.

The baby in the pictures M sent me? I don't feel I know her.

My heart breaks all over again. I miss my baby so much. I'm sure I'll get to see her again soon. But it will be different. She will be different. She won't be my Roo anymore. It makes me wonder if I should see her at all. Won't it hurt to see such a different baby than I knew?

Part of me thinks I need to sever ties, to move on as best as I can. But the bigger part of me knows I couldn't bear that. The bigger part of me felt her heart leap when she saw the e-mail from M today, and read it three times in quick succession, as well as another four times throughout the day.

I wrote back quickly. I think I may have asked a few more questions. I don't remember. I haven't heard back yet, and I have to remind myself that P and M don't have the liberty that I do to spend the day in front of a computer. They are busy with a toddler and a baby. The baby used to be mine. I'd give anything to have the baby instead of computer time. I miss her so badly I can hardly bear it.

I wish I could just fall asleep like a normal person tonight. But I couldn't last night, and I don't see that tonight will be any different. One-and-a-half Ativan and I might be able to rest, to relax.

And then I'll wake up again tomorrow. I wonder if I'll have that same blissful moment where I don't realize anything is wrong? I had it today. Then I realized what was missing, and my day was ruined.

Is this how it's going to be from now on? Will every Roo-less day be ruined?

I just miss her so much. I'd give the world just to hold her again.

But I can't.