Stuff

Since about Monday I've had the urge to buy stuff. All kinds of stuff. I realized these urges weren't really me (or needed... or practical). I couldn't understand why I was turning to retail therapy. It's an old habit, but one that I thought I had almost left behind.

Then I realized what was happening. I walked out of that ER on Sunday with a deep sense of emptiness. I wanted to fill that void. Stuff could fill that void. Shopping would make me feel numb. If I had lots of new stuff, I could pretend that I didn't have to face my profound loss.

I wised up to this fact pretty quickly, but it didn't stop the urges. So I finally decided a couple, significant purchases could help me mark the loss, remember what I had, and maybe, begin to move on.

The first is a necklace made by Elijah and Rhonda Wyman of Figs and Ginger. I had often drooled over it at the Iowa Artisans' Gallery, and I always promised myself I could buy it when I became a mom. I've decided I can buy it now. As I asked a friend who I ran into in front of the store, "I get to be a mom now, right?"

On Saturday, I was searching under "baby hats" on Etsy; on Monday, I was searching under "miscarriage." As I scrolled through jewelry and other mementos, I happened to think of Willow Tree figurines. I went to Susan Lordi's site, and I keep returning to the, "The Guardian."

I loved the name. I love that she is holding the baby so tightly that you almost can't tell what it is. The fact she is sitting on the rock has special significance to me. Lordi attaches this sentiment to it, "Love and Protect thee, forever." She says on her Web site, "I used the word 'thee' in the sentiment as an intimate way of talking to an infant. I think the word has a poetic sound and shows reverence and tenderness. It's the sort of word reserved for someone you love." I wonder if she realizes that thee was the informal form of you in the early English language. It was reserved for someone you were intimate with. At 'Thee,' the statue was sold.

So, yes, I indulged in some stuff. But the necklace helps me feel like I get to carry the baby with me. I will probably put the statue on my desk so that it can sit with me while I finish my dissertation. That, after all, was our agreement. I would take care of us and work hard to finish the dissertation before he or she came, if he or she stayed with me and didn't leave. Sometimes, I don't think that promise was broken, exactly, and that I still better live up to my end of the bargain.