Feelings about the death of Bryce and the aftermath

It seems hard to believe that it has been 19 days since I delivered Bryce and held his lifeless body in my arms. I feel like it just happened, and yet part of me feels afraid that things are starting to be too "normal" again. My baby boy is almost all I can think about right now, but I am trying to take care of my daughter Millie and be part of other people's lives as well. I want to stay connected to family and friends, yet I am still hurting and grieving over the loss of my little little child. I don't want to sit around wallowing in self-pity but I don't want to pretend nothing happened. I was pregnant! We were eagerly anticipating the August delivery of our little boy, Bryce. We found out February 22nd that Bryce had died and I delivered him at Norton Suburban Hospital in Louisville, Kentucky on March 2, 2007 at 2:45 a.m. I don't expect other people to be thinking about this as much as I am, nor do I want to only talk about the loss of our son Bryce. But it hurts when people don't acknowledge the fact that I'm grieving. I like to be asked how I'm doing, it's nice to know that people care. Sometimes, I know, people don't know what to say or feel awkward. But saying nothing feels like they either do not care or expect me to be "over it" already. I'm not going to "just get over it" this quickly. Bryce is a real person, that I really knew and that I really miss. I did not just lose the dream of a child, I lost a person! It takes a while to grieve, and I'm an individual who will grieve in my own way and for the length of time that I need to take. I don't want to get over this, I don't even want my breasts to dry up. Perhaps my squeezing milk from my breasts each night is a bit like scratching off the scab of a wound. It hurts, but it holds a morbid fascination for me. It sort of "hurts so good". I'm not ready to let go of the physical feeling of being the mother of an infant. Every part of my being longs to still have my son Bryce, to be able to care for him. For my breastmilk to dry up is to lose the last vestige of my pregnancy and a severing of that link to my son. I want empathy, emotional caring, expressions of real concern. I want comfort and acknowledgement of the personhood of my son Bryce. I want to function, to get my house in order, to be a good mother to my daughter Millie. Yet, in some ways doing that feels like a betrayal of Bryce or like I am trying to forget him. Sitting around moping or crying constantly doesn't seem right either, though. I am a Christian, and so I don't grieve as one in despair. I believe that my son Bryce is in heaven being loved and cared for by our heavenly Father. I believe that I will see my son again and that I will finally be able to hold him in life, the life to come. How should my grieving look right now? What ought I to be doing? Is sleeping and crying and not doing more than absolutely necessary being selfish or is it appropriate? How much should I do in the way of housework, child care, and involvement in regular activities (church, errands, community events, family functions, etc.)? I want to be real, and not put on some act to garner attention or praise for my "bravery". Perhaps that means that some days I will be really productive around the house and some days I will appear to have done nothing of consequence. My relationship with God is deepening and for that I am grateful. I am able to keep the kitchen picked up and my family fed. Millie seems to be doing okay under my care. I'm doing some things to keep up my relationships with family and friends. I think that I could do more to keep up with family and friends though. Housework and unpacking from our move are things that I want to get done. Perhaps I am afraid of "returning to normal" and I need to find a "new normal" that includes the reality that I have two children, one of which is in heaven. I don't want to appear to be trying to forget Bryce nor do I want to wallow in self-pity.