I can imagine that this is what it feels like to drown.
I was pushed into the freezing cold water. I had no warning. No life jacket. And I never saw it coming.
At first, I couldn't even believe I'd been pushed. I was stunned to look around and find myself in the water. Soon the cold started to make it's way into my bones and I tried to let out a scream. But nothing came. Just silence.
Thrashing. Kicking. Fighting. Doing whatever I could to get away from it. To get out of the cold water and back to the warm shore. But you can only fight for so long. Your head starts to bob below the surface. Each time it takes more to find the top and get one more breath. Each time you stay down a little longer.
I assume there comes a time when you just know. You know the shore is too far and you are just too tired. And the water is far too cold. You start to just give in. Maybe once or twice, you fight it. But pretty soon, you're just still. Floating in the water. Just waiting.
That's where I'm at. I'm starting to realize my new life isn't going away. My baby was taken away, without warning. Forever. It was horrifying, scary and almost unspeakable. It's becoming too hard to fight it. It's obvious. Now...? Now, I'm not sure. I feel like I am just floating here. Waiting. I'm not waiting for her to come back. I don't think I'm waiting for when I get to go to her. I know that's too long to just wait. I think I'm waiting for it to become real. I am waiting for our new reality. I certainly don't want it. But the fights gone. So, I just wait.