It's been a while since I've blogged about my own subject. I enjoyed the Walking with You series but found it difficult to write every week. If you've read the posts you may have noticed as they got shorter and shorter each time.
Tonight I guess I felt like putting down to words how incredibly fragile and raw I still am. I've come a long way, but part of me still hurts so very much. The past couple of days at work have reminded me of that. My co-worker is due in less than a month and there has been lots of talk of her baby's upcoming arrival. The buzz of excitement for most of our coworkers and our boss. I can't participate in that excitement. In fact, it seems to rip me apart to my very core. The naive innocence with which everyone expects that she and her child will be just fine. People held that naive innocence and excitement for me once too. I am no longer naive and I've lost that innocence and no longer have any room for either, nor can I identify with either. Mine was stolen from me 10 months and 15 days ago. These days its just more of a cruel reminder of what I'll never have, a pregnancy where I expect to come home with a child in my arms.
Anyway, I still can't believe that people can and will act that way around me. It's like they've forgotten that I buried my own son less than a year ago, like they've forgotten that I even had a son, like they've forgotten that I once had a pregnancy and it didn't end with a bundle of joy in my arms, like they've forgotten that I once had a pregnancy that ended with a broken heart and empty arms. I wish they would have a bit more respect for my loss and for me. I will confront those people on the words they said that ripped my heart in two, but I am getting so sick of having these conversations. I will go back to defense mode and avoid group settings as much as possible again, avoid going to meetings early, avoid group lunches with co-workers, back to my lonely existence of trying to survive.
Tomorrow is supposed to be "snowmageddon," maybe it will be a good excuse for me to avoid work all together.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Walking with You Series - Entry #6
Finding Hope and Healing With or Without a Rainbow
I'm not really sure where to go with this post. I don't know where my hope stands and I don't know where my healing stands. Quite frankly, they seem like distant images, some far off dream. I had hopes at one time, and they were shattered. I didn't need healing at one time, and now I'm broken beyond repair. Alfy was our first, so I'm not sure where to go from here.
I wish I had some word of wisdom or some eye opening realization as I type this, but I don't.
I do want to thank Kelly for starting this path for us to walk down. I haven't really made many connections since losing Alfy and I feel as if I've lost most. I don't fit in the before and I'm lost in the after. But, I am thankful for those who walked this journey with me. It really took away some of the loneliness.
I'm not really sure where to go with this post. I don't know where my hope stands and I don't know where my healing stands. Quite frankly, they seem like distant images, some far off dream. I had hopes at one time, and they were shattered. I didn't need healing at one time, and now I'm broken beyond repair. Alfy was our first, so I'm not sure where to go from here.
I wish I had some word of wisdom or some eye opening realization as I type this, but I don't.
I do want to thank Kelly for starting this path for us to walk down. I haven't really made many connections since losing Alfy and I feel as if I've lost most. I don't fit in the before and I'm lost in the after. But, I am thankful for those who walked this journey with me. It really took away some of the loneliness.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Walking with You Series - Entry #5
Mirror, Mirror - The Comparison Trap
How I have fallen into the Comparison Trap, time and time again. I remember when I first found blogs, I started reading about all these other mothers who had lost their children much too soon. They all seemed to handle it so much better than I. The mothers who had the courage to call Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, the mothers who washed and bathed their babies, the mothers who remembered to keep a locket of hair, the mothers who did_______________, you can insert a lot here. Why didn't I do those things? Why didn't I know? Why couldn't I find the courage?
After comparing all the things I did or didn't do with my son, I started comparing my grief process. So and so were able to keep a house running, get out of bed, cook, clean and go on with other kids. I didn't have other kids to go on for, I could barely go on myself in the early weeks. Getting out of bed was the hardest thing I did (still is), let alone clean my house or cook a meal. So and so went back to work after 6 weeks, I was still out at week 9. So and so was grieving without needing to see a therapist, without needing to take an anti-depressant, I wasn't. So many things others were doing, so many others that seemed to have it together so much better than I.
And it didn't stop there, I compared my grief and myself to Tony. He went back to work one week after Alfy was born and gone. He seemed to cope so much better with the outside world, he seemed so much stronger.
Turns out, it's just different, for everyone. The Comparison Trap is just that, a trap, full of misleadings and dangerous suggestions. It' easy to get in and hard to get out. I'll admit, at time I've had to distance myself from blogs and other BLMs to get out of the trap. But, after some time of self love and healing, I'm able to go back. I always go back because it's where I feel most connected now. I am slowly learning to be gentle with myself, to remember there is no wrong or right way to do any of this. There isn't a manual on how to grieve the death of your child, no matter how young or old, there is just your way. And like any new venture, it tends to be a learn-as-you-go process. I will admit, this is one I wish I didn't have to learn.
Speaking of comparisons, I've been trying to read what others have done for their child in Heaven's first birthday. Alfy's is coming up in less than two months, it doesn't seem possible, but it is. I want to do something to honor and remember him and help others honor and remember him. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I would really like to hear them. I met a woman last year who raised $25000 for the MISS Foundation in honor of her daughter's first birthday. I used to think how amazing that would be. That should something I should aim for on Alfy's first birthday. But, that's not where I am at, I've stopped comparing. Still looking for ideas on a smaller scale though.
How I have fallen into the Comparison Trap, time and time again. I remember when I first found blogs, I started reading about all these other mothers who had lost their children much too soon. They all seemed to handle it so much better than I. The mothers who had the courage to call Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, the mothers who washed and bathed their babies, the mothers who remembered to keep a locket of hair, the mothers who did_______________, you can insert a lot here. Why didn't I do those things? Why didn't I know? Why couldn't I find the courage?
After comparing all the things I did or didn't do with my son, I started comparing my grief process. So and so were able to keep a house running, get out of bed, cook, clean and go on with other kids. I didn't have other kids to go on for, I could barely go on myself in the early weeks. Getting out of bed was the hardest thing I did (still is), let alone clean my house or cook a meal. So and so went back to work after 6 weeks, I was still out at week 9. So and so was grieving without needing to see a therapist, without needing to take an anti-depressant, I wasn't. So many things others were doing, so many others that seemed to have it together so much better than I.
And it didn't stop there, I compared my grief and myself to Tony. He went back to work one week after Alfy was born and gone. He seemed to cope so much better with the outside world, he seemed so much stronger.
Turns out, it's just different, for everyone. The Comparison Trap is just that, a trap, full of misleadings and dangerous suggestions. It' easy to get in and hard to get out. I'll admit, at time I've had to distance myself from blogs and other BLMs to get out of the trap. But, after some time of self love and healing, I'm able to go back. I always go back because it's where I feel most connected now. I am slowly learning to be gentle with myself, to remember there is no wrong or right way to do any of this. There isn't a manual on how to grieve the death of your child, no matter how young or old, there is just your way. And like any new venture, it tends to be a learn-as-you-go process. I will admit, this is one I wish I didn't have to learn.
Speaking of comparisons, I've been trying to read what others have done for their child in Heaven's first birthday. Alfy's is coming up in less than two months, it doesn't seem possible, but it is. I want to do something to honor and remember him and help others honor and remember him. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I would really like to hear them. I met a woman last year who raised $25000 for the MISS Foundation in honor of her daughter's first birthday. I used to think how amazing that would be. That should something I should aim for on Alfy's first birthday. But, that's not where I am at, I've stopped comparing. Still looking for ideas on a smaller scale though.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Walking with You Series - Entry #4
First note - I realize I am a week behind, just haven't been able to catch up since starting.
Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy
I don't know that I have a whole lot to say here. Overcoming guilt is a daily battle for me. How did I not know my child was dying inside my own body? How did I not know he was already gone? How did I mistake the muscle spasms in my stomach for kicks? Why didn't I go to the doctor that one time a couple of weeks before I lost Alfy, when I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was normal? How, why, what if? These questions follow me on a daily basis. I've learned to drive them down, they can be extremely dangerous and destructive. On days when I have the hardest time letting the questions go, I physically go through the entire sequence of events and I rationally talk out (to myself) that there is nothing I could have done. I rationally talk out each step and that even if I had done this or had done that, the end result would have been the same, I still would have lost Alfy. I'm not sure that I believe it, but it's how I get through it.
Embracing joy, I think I do this with the small things. I'm not sure that I would call it joy, I'm not sure that I've experience real joy yet, happiness, yes, but joy, I don't think I would go there. I smile and laugh. I enjoy sarcasm and jokes again. I enjoy the little quirks of my dog and cat. My husband makes me smile and laugh and I love him so much it makes my heart warm. I enjoy those moments but they are tinged with bits of sadness. I think they always be. If and when I start embracing real joy again, I will let you know.
Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy
I don't know that I have a whole lot to say here. Overcoming guilt is a daily battle for me. How did I not know my child was dying inside my own body? How did I not know he was already gone? How did I mistake the muscle spasms in my stomach for kicks? Why didn't I go to the doctor that one time a couple of weeks before I lost Alfy, when I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was normal? How, why, what if? These questions follow me on a daily basis. I've learned to drive them down, they can be extremely dangerous and destructive. On days when I have the hardest time letting the questions go, I physically go through the entire sequence of events and I rationally talk out (to myself) that there is nothing I could have done. I rationally talk out each step and that even if I had done this or had done that, the end result would have been the same, I still would have lost Alfy. I'm not sure that I believe it, but it's how I get through it.
Embracing joy, I think I do this with the small things. I'm not sure that I would call it joy, I'm not sure that I've experience real joy yet, happiness, yes, but joy, I don't think I would go there. I smile and laugh. I enjoy sarcasm and jokes again. I enjoy the little quirks of my dog and cat. My husband makes me smile and laugh and I love him so much it makes my heart warm. I enjoy those moments but they are tinged with bits of sadness. I think they always be. If and when I start embracing real joy again, I will let you know.
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