It All Comes Back to Grief

I had an annual visit with my primary care doctor yesterday, which was spent reminiscing on the events that had transpired since the last time I had seen her (which was a few months after losing Virginia).  I didn't realize until we spent several minutes talking, just how much my life has changed and how many lessons I've learned since Virginia left us.

Lately, one of those lessons is how something so wonderful can also be simultaneously frustrating.  I'm talking about parenthood.  Taking care of an infant is TOUGH.  I've commented to a few of my friends and family members lately that it seems as if some of the best days are immediately followed by some of the worst.  I can have a day where I feel like I'm on top of the world; Cami is sleeping and eating well, she's happy and playful and rarely cries.  On those days, I have time to workout, get some chores done around the house, catch up with friends on the phone through email, cook dinner, even blow dry my hair and put makeup on.  My self-confidence soars, and I feel like I've got this mommy thing down.  Then the nighttime rolls around, and she wakes up screaming every 45 minutes and is overtired.  Then I get hit with illness from one night of poor sleep (my immune system sucks), I have to cancel my workout because doing so in a zombie like state would be unsafe at best, we have no food in the pantry, phone calls and emails go unreturned, and I'm lucky if I'm able to get my teeth brushed and maybe sneak in a shower--forget actually getting dressed and doing anything besides throwing a ponytail in my hair.  I've spent many of those days and nights sobbing, feeling frustrated and defeated and like I have no idea what I'm doing.  My self-confidence plummets, and I wonder if I'm really cut out to be a stay-at-home mom.  

Coincidentally (or maybe not-so-coincidentally), those are the days when I miss Virginia the most.  Those are the days when the grief rolls back in and brings me to my knees.  I spend those days crying not only because of the frustrations of the day, but because when one thing goes wrong, it all comes back to grief.  It  becomes easy to catastrophize and focus on everything that's ever been unfair or difficult in my life.  It all comes back to missing V.  

I don't really know what the point of this post is, except to say that this is something that has been on my mind quite often over the last 5 months.  I don't think it's possible to compartmentalize my grief--to say that the negative emotions should all exist separately in a vacuum.  But I do hope that at some point in the future, I'll be able to deal with the frustrations of daily life without letting them be a catalyst for the reappearance of that soul-crushing, mental-state destroying grief (does that make sense?  It does in my head, but I'm not sure I'm articulating very well).  I don't know how to get to that point.  Is it something I should consciously focus on?  Or is it a skill I will acquire over time, as the pulsing of grief dulls a bit?  I don't know.