Finally Sinking In

Everything is finally sinking in.
It is finally hitting me and it sucks. I no longer have to act like I am pregnant because I am not.
Well fuck.
I can eat sushi if I want. Or nothing at all if it suits me. I can smoke or drink or take diet pills or asprin. Whether I will or not is not the issue but the fact that I CAN if it suited me. There is no worrying because I'm pregnant. I can loose weight, I can start running. I can work on fitting in my "old" clothes and I can go out and buy new ones because in all likelihood they will fit in two months. There are no doctor or midwife appointments to make, plans to make and nothing to adjust our life to. There is nothing we are preparing for. While I suddenly have emptied the list of the "forbidden" I have also cleared the calendar for the future. Everything has come to an absolute grinding, ear-splitting, glass-shattering stop. In the silence of the aftermath I have no idea what to do next.
The numbness has worn off but I'm not sure what is next. So far I've cleaned. My friends ask how I'm doing. And to the ones that I am closest to and the people who know me best I tell them "the house is clean and smells like bleach if that tells you anything". It is and it does. The bathrooms are cleaned and vacuumed and the dishes are done and the floors are mopped. The clutter has been worked on and the little things that have been put off for the last few months are done. If I can control the chaos around me then maybe I can control the chaos that is going on in my head. I've been snippy with Doug a few times and bitchy with the kids but nothing that holds any real steam behind it.
I'm not sure how to process this. There are moments of overwhelming sadness. When we went to the hospital Monday for the D&C it was this roller coaster that I couldn't control. I was fine when we left until we got there. I was fine once we were checked in but not once we got back to the "prep" area. I was fine in the prep area but not waiting for the anesthesiologist. I was fine until I woke up. And until we were ready to leave. And until we got home. I was fine when a dear friend called and saved me by talking about anything but. I wasn't fine in between. Doug was amazing at the hospital. His quiet presence was what held me together. Knowing that he was going through it too and that I was not alone made the burden easier to bear. Because it was shared by the man I love most in this world I knew that I could and would be OK. It's the in between that I'm finding hard to deal with. It is the split second moments when I realize that the beer I'm drinking is no big deal.
I don't know how to get around this or past it. I'm sure this is one of those time-heals-all-wounds kind of deals. Until then I need to keep cleaning. I need to keep busy. I know that I need to move forward and to fill the days with something but I haven't figured out what that is yet. When you are pregnant it is an all encompassing thing and now I find that I have all this empty space to fill and I'm not sure what to do with it. It's like wading through mud and then finding yourself on dry ground. I'm struggling to get my bearings.
So for now I'm sure something needs dusting and there's a Diet Coke or margarita with my name on it and a pair of jeans I think I still fit into. And a little bit in between to be dealt with.