It is Easter weekend. Alfy was born during Easter weekend last year. While the dates are not the same and we will celebrate his short life and year in Heaven next weekend, it's almost like having to go through everything twice this year. I remember, more vividly than expected, what we were doing last year on Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter day. Each day I find myself looking at the clock and thinking back about what I was doing on that Easter day last year. Sometimes it catches me off guard, sometime it brings a smile to my face, sometimes it brings me to tears.
The change in weather is taking a toll on me as well. Don't get me wrong, I'm ready for warm weather but with it brings back the memories and feelings, emotional and physical, of last year. The weather does more to trigger memories than anything, the way the light is in our living room during certain times of days, the smells and breezes that travel through our screens, the birds chirping in the morning or evenings. If I close my eyes I would almost swear that I've been transported back in time to last year.
All this makes my heart ache. It makes me miss the early stages of grief. I'm sure that sounds strange, but those early stage of grief felt so much closer to Alfy, so much closer to my time with him. Now it all seems so far away. I miss him so much, I miss what he would have been now, what we would have with him.
I miss Alfy.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
One Line or Two?
I have been documenting the process of trying to get pregnant and finding out that we are pregnant since January. For those that read this blog, you might have noticed that I have been somewhat absent as of late. Well, that's because along with the grieving, a whole new set of fears has set in for me and Tony. As if grieving on its own isn't hard enough, we thought we would throw another wrench in it. But, I had to, if I didn't just keep moving I'm afraid at some point I would have stopped altogether and wouldn't have been able to start again. So I kept moving and keep moving each day. Day by day, that is how I live now.
Here is the journey of my pregnancy so far.
Entry #1 - 1/6/13
Tony and I are trying again to have a child. It's quite the process and quite frankly it kind of suck. When we got pregnant with Alfy, it was more luck. It's not that we weren't trying, but we weren't expecting it to work so quickly, but it did.
Now, we are actually having to work at it, which also means having to work at sex one week a month. Not cool. We have successfully failed twice. We've been "not officially" trying since September and have really put the work in a couple of times nows and no go.
In December, I actually thought I was pregnant. I was "scheduled" to start on Tuesday or Wednesday, by Friday, still nothing. Could it be, could I be pregnant? Saturday all those hopes, fears, everything, were crushed. There is a little part of me that wonders if maybe I had conceived another little soul, but for whatever reason, my body said no, again, couldn't keep another little soul alive. I'll never know for sure, I never took a pregnancy test.
This month, I took three tests. I screwed up the first one, took another one that night and one the next morning. "Not Pregnant." Those two little words came up both times. Still no monthly visitor this time either. Maybe my body isn't failing me again, maybe it's just a mess, who knows.
Entry #2 - 1/11/13
So I thought I had started my period last Sunday, after taking three pregnancy tests. But it only seemed like it was coming when I was going #2, so good chance it was just associated with hemorrhoids. Tony is out and about tonight. I stopped and picked up the cheap pregnancy tests, one with three just in case I screwed up again.
I had a good hour long cry tonight, the tears just kept pouring out. I thought I might be sick at one point. I just cried, went through all of Alfy's things and cried, looked through cards and letters and cried, just laid on the floor and cried.
Finally got up because I had to pee. I thought, what the hell, I'll take one again just in case. Two pink lines, I'm pretty sure that means I'm pregnant. Calling the doctor on Monday.
Entry #3 - 1/12/13
I took another pregnancy test tonight. It again came out positive. It affirmed for me that I do not have fertility issues. I was certain that in the cruel irony of the world, that it might throw infertility at me after losing Alfy, just to see if I could take it. I'm sure I could, but I didn't really want to. I had no valid reason for thinking that I might struggle with infertility, just a fear of the cruel side of the world.
Now on to all of the other fears. I will take it one day at a time for now. I'm not sure I can handle much more than that. I know that this pregnancy can end either one of two ways, 1) My child dies, before, during or after birth. Surely the world wouldn't do this twice to parents, but it does, I've been following a blog in which Abby and Aaron have lost two children, in one year. 2) I give birth to a living child, a rainbow baby as they're called in the BLM world, and bring him or her home.
Entry #4 - 1/18/13
I have an appointment with my OBGYN on Monday, 1/21/13 at 9am. I haven't really taken the time to let myself go to the place of, "I'm pregnant." It doesn't seem possible or real yet. It's like I've closed myself off and am just waiting for the shoe to drop. We'll see how Monday goes.
Entry #5 - 1/21/13
Went to the doctor today. I started to panic while we were waiting for the doctor, in the ultrasound room. I swore it was the same one we first heard Alfy's heartbeat, first saw his face and learned that he was gone. Tony swears it was a room down the hall. I like to think Tony is right, makes me feel just a bit better. We didn't see much, just a small sac of fluid and a spot where there might have been some bleeding, but hopefully nothing to worry about. It still hasn't really set in. I worry that I won't become attached to this little being because of my fear of what could happen. But then I think, what if something does happen and I didn't get attached, that would feel even worse. It's only been 6 weeks and 2 days. Lots more to go.
Entry #6 - 1/22/13
The doctor called today. My hormone levels were higher than she expected based on what she saw in the ultrasound yesterday. She would have expected to see more development. I have to have my hormone levels tested again tomorrow. If the hormone levels are continuing to increase then I will have another ultrasound next week. If they are going down, then I am probably having a miscarriage, but she could be wrong, her words, she seen it before. She just wanted to make sure I was aware of all of the possible scenarios. Could this seriously be happening?
Entry #7 - 1/27/13
I haven't had much time to write this week. I had my blood drawn again on Wednesday morning to test how the hormone levels were progressing. I received a call around lunch time on Thursday from doctor with the results. The hormone levels were increasing but not like she expected them to be. My doctor told me that my body could be preparing or having a miscarriage or it could be pregnant and just progressing differently than one would normally expect. But, there was no way to tell for sure from the tests. We have another ultrasound tomorrow morning, 1/28. It's been a long week. I was sitting in a meeting on Wednesday, with many people who had children and one who is about to have a child and several that will go through the journey a few more times. I looked around and realized they were all successful in the giving life journey, none had suffered any losses. I was certain in that moment that they never would either. And there I sat, sure I was about to suffer my second loss. I guess I'll know for sure tomorrow.
Entry #8 - 1/30/13
I should have written this entry two days ago. My doctor found a little being and a heartbeat during Monday's ultrasound. She thinks that I probably ovulated later in my cycle than what we would expect and that I am a week behind what the start of my last cycle would indicate. So, I guess Tony and I are expecting. It's still early, 6 weeks and 4 days based on the updated timeline. I have been very nauseous and fatigued, but I will take it. While I don't enjoy either one, I take them as signs that the little being in my body is still alive. My next appointment is on Feb. 11 and the next one after that Feb. 25. I think I will be having appointments every two weeks, which translates into 1 per month with my OB and 1 per month with the specialist. I am now living day by day in two week increments. I've already told a couple of people at work. I know they say to wait until 12 weeks because the risk of losing the little being is high in the first 12 weeks, but I did that and I still lost Alfy, so I don't think the same rules apply to me anymore. I/We will tell people whenever we feel like it. Some I want to tell now and others I don't ever want to tell until the end (not plausible, I know). Like everything else, guess I'll take it day by day, two weeks at a time.
Entry #9 - 1/31/13
Today I had my first panic doctor's appointment. I experienced some light spotting this morning and completely broke down. I managed to get it together enough to be at work but had an appointment scheduled this afternoon. My doctor did a quick ultrasound and everything still looks good, still a strong heartbeat. Those words make me feel better for about the amount of time I can hear it on the ultrasound. I also know what it's like to hear there is no heartbeat. I just keep waiting for the worst to happen, I EXPECT the worst to happen. My goal, make it to my next appointment on February 11.
Entry #10 - 2/10/13
My next appointment is tomorrow at 8:30am. I have to say the anxiety didn't really set in for this appointment until about 4am this morning when I couldn't sleep. In fact, my anxiety levels had dropped considerably, almost like the farther I got away from the last appointment, the less real it became, until 4am last night. Then my anxiety levels spiked. The past 10 days haven't been too bad. I've felt sick most of the time and so incredibly tired. The past couple of days the nausea has subsided a little, that makes me kind of nervous. I suppose I equate nausea to pregnancy. If I'm not sick, then I might not be pregnant. It's exhausting though. I'm don't feel comfortable complaining about the nausea because I fear others interpret it as me not being thankful for the little life with me. So not the case, I get how fragile this little life is, it could end at any moment, I am all too aware of that. But, that doesn't mean it's fun to be sick all the time either. Just another one of the things that has changed for me, no sharing of the things other women might share about their pregnancies, I keep mine to myself because others just don't seem to understand. Well, here's to tomorrow's appointment. 8 weeks, 2 days and counting, I hope.
Entry #11 - 2/16/13
I don't know why, but I put off writing down my updates. It's the detachment, the not quite feeling like I'm pregnant (not literally, I'm feel sick all the time and am exhausted beyond words) but not being able to put it together mentally I suppose. We had our appointment with the specialist on Monday. Again, they found the heartbeat. We went through the plan for the next several months, what the odds were of another loss, all of that. After hearing the heartbeat there is about a 3% chance of miscarriage. After 20 weeks, for a normal woman, there is a 1 in 160 chance that her pregnancy will end in stillbirth. After you become that 1, it becomes a 1 in 50 chance that the next pregnancy will end in stillbirth. I start Lovenox shots next week. I have an appointment on Tuesday morning to learn how to give myself an injection, it will become a daily part of my routine. I have another appointment the following week, another ultrasound. I've already had 4 ultrasounds and I have number 5 and 6 already scheduled. 9 weeks and 1 day.
Entry #12 - 2/21/13
Well, tonight (technically 2/20) I did it. I gave myself my first shot. It sucked. Don't get me wrong, the needle is quite small, but it still sucked. I could feel the needle as it broke the skin of my belly and I could feel every last drop of medicine entering my belly. It does not feel good, it burns like hell. The hand that was squeezing the fat part for the shot could feel the medicine entering. When the nurse did the shot yesterday, it only burned for about 10 minutes afterward. When I did it tonight, it burned for what felt like forever but was really closer to 30 minutes. It's going to be a long 30 weeks.
Entry #13 - 2/24/13
I've been doing the shots now for four nights on my own. Boy does it suck. The spot where the nurse did the shot didn't bruise, all of mine have small bruises around them. Not big ones, just little circles. I need to figure out how far apart the shots have to be, I can't imagine my stomach having room for them for the next ______ weeks. The nausea comes and goes now, not as full force as it was a week or two ago. It brings a new level of anxiety, sickness = pregnancy, no-sickness = no pregnancy, sounds weird. Ultrasound number 5 is tomorrow. 10 weeks and 3 days.
Entry #14 - 3/1/13
Ultrasound number 5 went fine. There was a heartbeat and the little being was moving. I was a little frustrated at the communication between my OB and the specialist, but I think it will be worked out. Jut have to take a proactive stance and ask lots of questions. The next appointment is in just over a week, they will do screenings for genetic abnormalities, like the Trisomy genes. I don't think the results will mean all that much to me, I've been the 1 and I can always be the 1 again. Went through my first box of injections, I've done a total of 11. It still sucks every night. Family coming to town next weekend, think we are telling them. Not looking forward to it. 11 weeks today.
Entry #15 - 3/11/13
My birthday was Friday, 3/8. I also made it to 12 weeks. My family was in town, Tony and I told our parents and siblings. Honestly, I dreaded telling them and I wish we didn't have to, at all, ever. Comments like, "Everything is going to be fine this time, I just know it," or "I'm sure your scared and worried, it doesn't ever go away even after they're born," provide me no comfort at all. My parents just don't get it and I can fill the void between us starting to grow again, I can feel the space that I am starting to place there because I simply don't have the energy or want right now to try to help them understand. They just don't get it. They don't see me as a parent, which makes me sad.
Tomorrow is the 12 week appointment/ultrasound. We'll do the genetic testing but I'm not sure that it will mean too much to me, the results I mean. It's all just a bunch of numbers and once you're the one, you feel you could always be the one.
Entry #16 - 3/17/13
So, I made it to 13 weeks yesterday. Apparently my due date is 9/21 not 9/20 according to my specialist. I had been counting on Fridays in previous posts, now I will make the week change on Saturdays. Today, 13 weeks and 1 day. We had our 12 week appointment last week. The kiddo measured at 13 weeks 1 day and we were 12 weeks 3 days, growing at a healthy pace so far. We also did all the testing, we have about a 1 in 10000 chance of having Downs, Trisomy 18 or 21. The doctor could have told me 1 in 300 and I don't think I would have reacted much differently. There is always the 1...One week until our next appointment. We are sending out invites for Alfy's birthday tomorrow, at the same time announcing kiddo #2. Makes me nervous, can't go back. What if I have to tell everyone again that I've lost my child? It creates a panic in my mind and my stomach. I just don't think about it, don't think about being pregnant, don't think about the future. Just stick to day to day thoughts.
Here is the journey of my pregnancy so far.
Entry #1 - 1/6/13
Tony and I are trying again to have a child. It's quite the process and quite frankly it kind of suck. When we got pregnant with Alfy, it was more luck. It's not that we weren't trying, but we weren't expecting it to work so quickly, but it did.
Now, we are actually having to work at it, which also means having to work at sex one week a month. Not cool. We have successfully failed twice. We've been "not officially" trying since September and have really put the work in a couple of times nows and no go.
In December, I actually thought I was pregnant. I was "scheduled" to start on Tuesday or Wednesday, by Friday, still nothing. Could it be, could I be pregnant? Saturday all those hopes, fears, everything, were crushed. There is a little part of me that wonders if maybe I had conceived another little soul, but for whatever reason, my body said no, again, couldn't keep another little soul alive. I'll never know for sure, I never took a pregnancy test.
This month, I took three tests. I screwed up the first one, took another one that night and one the next morning. "Not Pregnant." Those two little words came up both times. Still no monthly visitor this time either. Maybe my body isn't failing me again, maybe it's just a mess, who knows.
Entry #2 - 1/11/13
So I thought I had started my period last Sunday, after taking three pregnancy tests. But it only seemed like it was coming when I was going #2, so good chance it was just associated with hemorrhoids. Tony is out and about tonight. I stopped and picked up the cheap pregnancy tests, one with three just in case I screwed up again.
I had a good hour long cry tonight, the tears just kept pouring out. I thought I might be sick at one point. I just cried, went through all of Alfy's things and cried, looked through cards and letters and cried, just laid on the floor and cried.
Finally got up because I had to pee. I thought, what the hell, I'll take one again just in case. Two pink lines, I'm pretty sure that means I'm pregnant. Calling the doctor on Monday.
Entry #3 - 1/12/13
I took another pregnancy test tonight. It again came out positive. It affirmed for me that I do not have fertility issues. I was certain that in the cruel irony of the world, that it might throw infertility at me after losing Alfy, just to see if I could take it. I'm sure I could, but I didn't really want to. I had no valid reason for thinking that I might struggle with infertility, just a fear of the cruel side of the world.
Now on to all of the other fears. I will take it one day at a time for now. I'm not sure I can handle much more than that. I know that this pregnancy can end either one of two ways, 1) My child dies, before, during or after birth. Surely the world wouldn't do this twice to parents, but it does, I've been following a blog in which Abby and Aaron have lost two children, in one year. 2) I give birth to a living child, a rainbow baby as they're called in the BLM world, and bring him or her home.
Entry #4 - 1/18/13
I have an appointment with my OBGYN on Monday, 1/21/13 at 9am. I haven't really taken the time to let myself go to the place of, "I'm pregnant." It doesn't seem possible or real yet. It's like I've closed myself off and am just waiting for the shoe to drop. We'll see how Monday goes.
Entry #5 - 1/21/13
Went to the doctor today. I started to panic while we were waiting for the doctor, in the ultrasound room. I swore it was the same one we first heard Alfy's heartbeat, first saw his face and learned that he was gone. Tony swears it was a room down the hall. I like to think Tony is right, makes me feel just a bit better. We didn't see much, just a small sac of fluid and a spot where there might have been some bleeding, but hopefully nothing to worry about. It still hasn't really set in. I worry that I won't become attached to this little being because of my fear of what could happen. But then I think, what if something does happen and I didn't get attached, that would feel even worse. It's only been 6 weeks and 2 days. Lots more to go.
Entry #6 - 1/22/13
The doctor called today. My hormone levels were higher than she expected based on what she saw in the ultrasound yesterday. She would have expected to see more development. I have to have my hormone levels tested again tomorrow. If the hormone levels are continuing to increase then I will have another ultrasound next week. If they are going down, then I am probably having a miscarriage, but she could be wrong, her words, she seen it before. She just wanted to make sure I was aware of all of the possible scenarios. Could this seriously be happening?
Entry #7 - 1/27/13
I haven't had much time to write this week. I had my blood drawn again on Wednesday morning to test how the hormone levels were progressing. I received a call around lunch time on Thursday from doctor with the results. The hormone levels were increasing but not like she expected them to be. My doctor told me that my body could be preparing or having a miscarriage or it could be pregnant and just progressing differently than one would normally expect. But, there was no way to tell for sure from the tests. We have another ultrasound tomorrow morning, 1/28. It's been a long week. I was sitting in a meeting on Wednesday, with many people who had children and one who is about to have a child and several that will go through the journey a few more times. I looked around and realized they were all successful in the giving life journey, none had suffered any losses. I was certain in that moment that they never would either. And there I sat, sure I was about to suffer my second loss. I guess I'll know for sure tomorrow.
Entry #8 - 1/30/13
I should have written this entry two days ago. My doctor found a little being and a heartbeat during Monday's ultrasound. She thinks that I probably ovulated later in my cycle than what we would expect and that I am a week behind what the start of my last cycle would indicate. So, I guess Tony and I are expecting. It's still early, 6 weeks and 4 days based on the updated timeline. I have been very nauseous and fatigued, but I will take it. While I don't enjoy either one, I take them as signs that the little being in my body is still alive. My next appointment is on Feb. 11 and the next one after that Feb. 25. I think I will be having appointments every two weeks, which translates into 1 per month with my OB and 1 per month with the specialist. I am now living day by day in two week increments. I've already told a couple of people at work. I know they say to wait until 12 weeks because the risk of losing the little being is high in the first 12 weeks, but I did that and I still lost Alfy, so I don't think the same rules apply to me anymore. I/We will tell people whenever we feel like it. Some I want to tell now and others I don't ever want to tell until the end (not plausible, I know). Like everything else, guess I'll take it day by day, two weeks at a time.
Entry #9 - 1/31/13
Today I had my first panic doctor's appointment. I experienced some light spotting this morning and completely broke down. I managed to get it together enough to be at work but had an appointment scheduled this afternoon. My doctor did a quick ultrasound and everything still looks good, still a strong heartbeat. Those words make me feel better for about the amount of time I can hear it on the ultrasound. I also know what it's like to hear there is no heartbeat. I just keep waiting for the worst to happen, I EXPECT the worst to happen. My goal, make it to my next appointment on February 11.
Entry #10 - 2/10/13
My next appointment is tomorrow at 8:30am. I have to say the anxiety didn't really set in for this appointment until about 4am this morning when I couldn't sleep. In fact, my anxiety levels had dropped considerably, almost like the farther I got away from the last appointment, the less real it became, until 4am last night. Then my anxiety levels spiked. The past 10 days haven't been too bad. I've felt sick most of the time and so incredibly tired. The past couple of days the nausea has subsided a little, that makes me kind of nervous. I suppose I equate nausea to pregnancy. If I'm not sick, then I might not be pregnant. It's exhausting though. I'm don't feel comfortable complaining about the nausea because I fear others interpret it as me not being thankful for the little life with me. So not the case, I get how fragile this little life is, it could end at any moment, I am all too aware of that. But, that doesn't mean it's fun to be sick all the time either. Just another one of the things that has changed for me, no sharing of the things other women might share about their pregnancies, I keep mine to myself because others just don't seem to understand. Well, here's to tomorrow's appointment. 8 weeks, 2 days and counting, I hope.
Entry #11 - 2/16/13
I don't know why, but I put off writing down my updates. It's the detachment, the not quite feeling like I'm pregnant (not literally, I'm feel sick all the time and am exhausted beyond words) but not being able to put it together mentally I suppose. We had our appointment with the specialist on Monday. Again, they found the heartbeat. We went through the plan for the next several months, what the odds were of another loss, all of that. After hearing the heartbeat there is about a 3% chance of miscarriage. After 20 weeks, for a normal woman, there is a 1 in 160 chance that her pregnancy will end in stillbirth. After you become that 1, it becomes a 1 in 50 chance that the next pregnancy will end in stillbirth. I start Lovenox shots next week. I have an appointment on Tuesday morning to learn how to give myself an injection, it will become a daily part of my routine. I have another appointment the following week, another ultrasound. I've already had 4 ultrasounds and I have number 5 and 6 already scheduled. 9 weeks and 1 day.
Entry #12 - 2/21/13
Well, tonight (technically 2/20) I did it. I gave myself my first shot. It sucked. Don't get me wrong, the needle is quite small, but it still sucked. I could feel the needle as it broke the skin of my belly and I could feel every last drop of medicine entering my belly. It does not feel good, it burns like hell. The hand that was squeezing the fat part for the shot could feel the medicine entering. When the nurse did the shot yesterday, it only burned for about 10 minutes afterward. When I did it tonight, it burned for what felt like forever but was really closer to 30 minutes. It's going to be a long 30 weeks.
Entry #13 - 2/24/13
I've been doing the shots now for four nights on my own. Boy does it suck. The spot where the nurse did the shot didn't bruise, all of mine have small bruises around them. Not big ones, just little circles. I need to figure out how far apart the shots have to be, I can't imagine my stomach having room for them for the next ______ weeks. The nausea comes and goes now, not as full force as it was a week or two ago. It brings a new level of anxiety, sickness = pregnancy, no-sickness = no pregnancy, sounds weird. Ultrasound number 5 is tomorrow. 10 weeks and 3 days.
Entry #14 - 3/1/13
Ultrasound number 5 went fine. There was a heartbeat and the little being was moving. I was a little frustrated at the communication between my OB and the specialist, but I think it will be worked out. Jut have to take a proactive stance and ask lots of questions. The next appointment is in just over a week, they will do screenings for genetic abnormalities, like the Trisomy genes. I don't think the results will mean all that much to me, I've been the 1 and I can always be the 1 again. Went through my first box of injections, I've done a total of 11. It still sucks every night. Family coming to town next weekend, think we are telling them. Not looking forward to it. 11 weeks today.
Entry #15 - 3/11/13
My birthday was Friday, 3/8. I also made it to 12 weeks. My family was in town, Tony and I told our parents and siblings. Honestly, I dreaded telling them and I wish we didn't have to, at all, ever. Comments like, "Everything is going to be fine this time, I just know it," or "I'm sure your scared and worried, it doesn't ever go away even after they're born," provide me no comfort at all. My parents just don't get it and I can fill the void between us starting to grow again, I can feel the space that I am starting to place there because I simply don't have the energy or want right now to try to help them understand. They just don't get it. They don't see me as a parent, which makes me sad.
Tomorrow is the 12 week appointment/ultrasound. We'll do the genetic testing but I'm not sure that it will mean too much to me, the results I mean. It's all just a bunch of numbers and once you're the one, you feel you could always be the one.
Entry #16 - 3/17/13
So, I made it to 13 weeks yesterday. Apparently my due date is 9/21 not 9/20 according to my specialist. I had been counting on Fridays in previous posts, now I will make the week change on Saturdays. Today, 13 weeks and 1 day. We had our 12 week appointment last week. The kiddo measured at 13 weeks 1 day and we were 12 weeks 3 days, growing at a healthy pace so far. We also did all the testing, we have about a 1 in 10000 chance of having Downs, Trisomy 18 or 21. The doctor could have told me 1 in 300 and I don't think I would have reacted much differently. There is always the 1...One week until our next appointment. We are sending out invites for Alfy's birthday tomorrow, at the same time announcing kiddo #2. Makes me nervous, can't go back. What if I have to tell everyone again that I've lost my child? It creates a panic in my mind and my stomach. I just don't think about it, don't think about being pregnant, don't think about the future. Just stick to day to day thoughts.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Have They Forgotten?
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Walking with You Series - Entry #3
Steps Back into Life
My first steps back into life were quite lonesome. I had Tony and my grief counselor, but that's really it. And as I think about it, I am still taking steps.
The first steps really involved myself and relate directly back to clinging in the pit. I would say that my steps back into life and climbing out of the pit are one and the same journey. It's funny, as I think about my steps, I literally think about my steps. In the early days, I went for a quick 12 minute walk each morning when I got up, just to get me out of bed and get my heart pumping, to experience something other than my couch, to experience the outside world, literally. Those walks progressed into evening walks with Tony and our dog, Desda. They were a crucial part of my steps back into life. It was a time for me to learn to enjoy the little things again, to spend some time with the one other person who knew exactly what I was going through. It became an everyday ritual for us, like clockwork. My anxiety levels would raise to unimaginable heights if we didn't go, so we went, no matter what.
In regards to the rest of the world, it's hard for me to go back to that place. There is so much heartache and sadness that goes with that place. "Normal" people have no idea how to deal with the idea of a child who has died so unexpectedly, one they were never able to hold. And, because of that, it was like everyone was trying to bring my attention to other things, things that really had no meaning to me at the time. I remember receiving texts from friends and family about random things they had just seen on a TV show, or what was going on with so and so and could I believe that? I hated those texts and those communications. I did not give a damn about those things. My son just died and you want to tell me about how a show you just saw reminded me of...whatever. I still don't care about those things that much, but I can at least incorporate them into conversations now. I didn't care about small talk and if that is all someone wanted to do with me, then I couldn't be around them. Small talk was beyond my abilities. I have never been good at it to begin with, but it was impossible. I stopped communicating with those who wanted to make small talk. I cut myself off from them. They weren't comfortable with Alfy, I wasn't comfortable with them.
There were a rare few who would actually ask me about Alfy and my grief and those were the people I stayed in contact with. If not for them, well, I'm not sure that I would have ever learned to communicate again. They would ask about my grief, which is incredibly hard to talk about, but at least they asked. They asked about Alfy, also incredibly hard to talk about at times, but they asked, and that was so important to me.
I have found that balancing my new self with old friends to be incredibly challenging. I think the loss of Alfy and my grief are just too hard for some people to deal with. I try not to surround myself with those people. At times, I have to, family obligation, but if I can help it, I make that choice. And, there are a few times where I choose to be around people who have no idea what my grief and loss are like, almost like a small reprieve from my own reality. I have a hard time saying that, I feel like I'm disrespecting my own son, but I've also decided that those individuals, while probably for the most part good, really aren't worthy of know Alfy or my grief. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but it's how I function right now.
I am still taking steps, sometimes small, sometimes leaps, sometimes forward, sometimes back. I have by no means figured it out. I'm still figuring out who is safe, who isn't, my own boundaries on what I will and will not share and with whom. I'm still making that walk back into life. It's a hard one, the hardest one there is I imagine.
My biggest fear in this journey is that I will somehow let others forget, or let myself forget, Alfy and my grief. I don't want to forget him, I just don't want it to be so hard all the time. I also fear the people I will lose because they are unable to handle the hard that is now me. "I have a son, his name is Alfy and I am a mother. If you can not recognize that, then you don't deserve to be a part of my life. I don't expect you to be comfortable with it, but I expect you to acknowledge it and at least try if you want to continue in my life." I wish I could say that to everyone I know. I've said it a few and I suppose I'll keep trying, at least with those I care about. It's just hard knowing that some of those people will respond in the way you are dreading, unable to acknowledge Alfy, unable to acknowledge my grief and they will slowly disappear, some already have. But, there are those who surprise you too, and I will hold on to those people tightly.
Like I said my steps are continuing, a little different each day. We'll see what tomorrow's steps bring.
My first steps back into life were quite lonesome. I had Tony and my grief counselor, but that's really it. And as I think about it, I am still taking steps.
The first steps really involved myself and relate directly back to clinging in the pit. I would say that my steps back into life and climbing out of the pit are one and the same journey. It's funny, as I think about my steps, I literally think about my steps. In the early days, I went for a quick 12 minute walk each morning when I got up, just to get me out of bed and get my heart pumping, to experience something other than my couch, to experience the outside world, literally. Those walks progressed into evening walks with Tony and our dog, Desda. They were a crucial part of my steps back into life. It was a time for me to learn to enjoy the little things again, to spend some time with the one other person who knew exactly what I was going through. It became an everyday ritual for us, like clockwork. My anxiety levels would raise to unimaginable heights if we didn't go, so we went, no matter what.
In regards to the rest of the world, it's hard for me to go back to that place. There is so much heartache and sadness that goes with that place. "Normal" people have no idea how to deal with the idea of a child who has died so unexpectedly, one they were never able to hold. And, because of that, it was like everyone was trying to bring my attention to other things, things that really had no meaning to me at the time. I remember receiving texts from friends and family about random things they had just seen on a TV show, or what was going on with so and so and could I believe that? I hated those texts and those communications. I did not give a damn about those things. My son just died and you want to tell me about how a show you just saw reminded me of...whatever. I still don't care about those things that much, but I can at least incorporate them into conversations now. I didn't care about small talk and if that is all someone wanted to do with me, then I couldn't be around them. Small talk was beyond my abilities. I have never been good at it to begin with, but it was impossible. I stopped communicating with those who wanted to make small talk. I cut myself off from them. They weren't comfortable with Alfy, I wasn't comfortable with them.
There were a rare few who would actually ask me about Alfy and my grief and those were the people I stayed in contact with. If not for them, well, I'm not sure that I would have ever learned to communicate again. They would ask about my grief, which is incredibly hard to talk about, but at least they asked. They asked about Alfy, also incredibly hard to talk about at times, but they asked, and that was so important to me.
I have found that balancing my new self with old friends to be incredibly challenging. I think the loss of Alfy and my grief are just too hard for some people to deal with. I try not to surround myself with those people. At times, I have to, family obligation, but if I can help it, I make that choice. And, there are a few times where I choose to be around people who have no idea what my grief and loss are like, almost like a small reprieve from my own reality. I have a hard time saying that, I feel like I'm disrespecting my own son, but I've also decided that those individuals, while probably for the most part good, really aren't worthy of know Alfy or my grief. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but it's how I function right now.
I am still taking steps, sometimes small, sometimes leaps, sometimes forward, sometimes back. I have by no means figured it out. I'm still figuring out who is safe, who isn't, my own boundaries on what I will and will not share and with whom. I'm still making that walk back into life. It's a hard one, the hardest one there is I imagine.
My biggest fear in this journey is that I will somehow let others forget, or let myself forget, Alfy and my grief. I don't want to forget him, I just don't want it to be so hard all the time. I also fear the people I will lose because they are unable to handle the hard that is now me. "I have a son, his name is Alfy and I am a mother. If you can not recognize that, then you don't deserve to be a part of my life. I don't expect you to be comfortable with it, but I expect you to acknowledge it and at least try if you want to continue in my life." I wish I could say that to everyone I know. I've said it a few and I suppose I'll keep trying, at least with those I care about. It's just hard knowing that some of those people will respond in the way you are dreading, unable to acknowledge Alfy, unable to acknowledge my grief and they will slowly disappear, some already have. But, there are those who surprise you too, and I will hold on to those people tightly.
Like I said my steps are continuing, a little different each day. We'll see what tomorrow's steps bring.
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