The word "shadow" has a lot of meanings. Here are two of them:
1 n. An area that is partially or totally unilluminated because of the [insert technical jargon here]
2 n. A trace, a remnant
Sometimes I am me. I make bad jokes, and then laugh at those bad jokes. I watch tv shows that make me laugh. I play the piano, sing, exercise, and pet neighborhood dogs. I try on every pair of shoes (that I like) in my size on clearance at Marshalls. I annoy my cats with silly songs and kisses on the head. (This is how I show love.) I smile. I am the "me" anyone would say they know.
Sometimes I am my shadow. I go for walks with my sunglasses on because the fresh air is healing, but I don't want others to see my tears. I go to Marshalls, but I skip the shoes and try on new fall clothes that are non-maternity only to find nothing fits right because my stomach is still stretched and saggy, and when I get back to the car, the tears flow. I hold my cats and cry. I avoid my neighbors. I sometimes play the piano, but my voice doesn't work for singing. My throat always aches because my eyes are always on the verge of tears. I try to smile, but that makes the tears that have been brimming in my eyes spill out. Most people don't know me this way, so I try to avoid them.
It seems my shadow is an river.
I always think I'm fine. I go through weeks of being me, and then my shadow creeps out. Always around the same time, too - the 10th of the month. Today is the 8th, so it makes sense that I'm unilluminated today. I feel desperate in these shadowy times, but I never know for what. I have been trying to figure that out for five months.
My shadow is generally shaped like me. At times, it gets stretched out too thin; at others, it gets flattened by larger-than-life emotions. My shadow is made of saltwater, tasting of earth and brine.
No, my shadow is not a river. My shadow is an ocean.
And sometimes I drown in my shadow.
My daughter Anika was fullterm stillborn. This blog is about our griefs, pregnancy after loss (hopefully), and hope.
Megan, I experience the exact same thing, even 2 years later. My shadow is the 17th of every month. It's like my body just knows and immediately I start to feel sad. Sometimes I'm not even aware that it is near the 17th of the month until I think to myself, "Why am I feeling like this?" and then it hits me. Weird, how your body automatically goes into the grief cycle...
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