Somehow I thought day two would be easier.
It might have been even harder.
I woke up crying.
I'm sure I'll go to bed crying.
A box of baby stuff I had ordered online was delivered. I couldn't for the life of me remember what I had ordered, and the box wasn't marked, so I was absolutely not mentally prepared when I opened it and saw a tiny sweater that Caleb was going to wear for Christmas (before I even knew he was Caleb), a onsie, and two pairs of shoes.
In between the crying jags, though, I have moments...even an hour or so...of normalcy. Like watching Lost with my brother. Talking about camping with my aunt. Looking at new couches and deck ideas online with Chris.
The time after those bouts is almost the most difficult, because I feel like somehow I'm dishonoring Caleb by having normal conversations. 48 hours later it already feels unreal. Did I really go through all that? Was I really even pregnant? Maybe this was all a bad dream.
I hope this was all a bad dream.