is Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day to those who hold your babies in your arms and those who hold your babies in your hearts while the angels rock them.
This is my first with my baby in my arms and its a little bittersweet. There is nothing different today than yesterday except the memories of last year haunting me.
Today we are spending a quiet day, holding our babe. I took a nap with him sleeping on my chest but its hard not to shed a few tears today. In happiness, in rememberance, in love and in joy.
My heart is with the other mothers who may not be quite as lucky as me but are mother's in their hearts, in their souls. To the other Mother's who are celebrating life on this day but who have known other days of hardship as well.
Happy Mother's Day to all my girls, all the mothers.
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Remembering Bumblebee
My due date has come and gone and I thought about writing about it many times but I kept refocusing on my baby. I've had moments of sadness, confusion and even some joy. If I had had bumblebee, I wouldn't have Matthew. That is a hard reality to face because I will always love my first babe but I could never imagine not having Matthew or wishing for something that I've never known when it means not having him.
How do you reconcile a feeling of grief when you are holding your whole world in your arms? The pain is easier this year, because I'm holding my son and I have to believe that things happened the way they did because I was meant to have him in my arms at this time.
It doesn't make me miss bumblebee less or not wish I could have known him/her but it is easier to deal with the loss knowing I have Matthew and I would never have had both.
It's easier to believe in "meant to be" when you have that child in your arms staring back at you but its still a little...confusing feeling all that emotion.
If that makes sense.
How do you reconcile a feeling of grief when you are holding your whole world in your arms? The pain is easier this year, because I'm holding my son and I have to believe that things happened the way they did because I was meant to have him in my arms at this time.
It doesn't make me miss bumblebee less or not wish I could have known him/her but it is easier to deal with the loss knowing I have Matthew and I would never have had both.
It's easier to believe in "meant to be" when you have that child in your arms staring back at you but its still a little...confusing feeling all that emotion.
If that makes sense.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Looking Back ...Looking Forward...Looking Beyond Myself
It's Happening Too Fast. Everything. It's just whizzing by like a speeding Amtrak Train and I can't slow it down. This past week has been crazy. Monday after the babyshower I woke feeling puny. Puny enough to stay home from work and sleep most of the day. Monday Afternoon was my first NonStress Test which stressed ME out after waiting in the waiting room for over an hour watching people come and go. (yea, they forgot about me).
Tuesday I found out my Uncle (and neighbor) died during the night. It hit me hard. He was like a grandfather to me, this giant presence always in my life. I spent the next few days in a haze of trying to finish up Thank You notes from the Shower, Dr's appointments, work during the day, and spending every night with my family next door at my cousins, taking food over, sharing stories and tears.
Thursday afternoon, at the second NonStress Test I had a melt down. For twenty minutes two different nurses could not pick up the heartbeat. Even though I had felt him move on the way there, I lost it. The stress came crashing in and I panicked. Everything was fine though. He was in a wierd position and the machine was having trouble keeping the heartbeat but once he started moving his test came back perfect. They left me hooked up longer because of that though and so I was stiff and uncomfortable by the time I was done. I rushed off to the Viewing Service at the funeral home and stayed till the very end spending time among my family.
Friday was one of the hardest days in a long long time. I had the day off work since the funeral was at 2 so I spent the morning running errands: hem tape for DH's suit pants, dress shoes for him (as this was the first time EVER my husband donned a suit. He didn't even wear one at our wedding!) the post office to mail out TY notes. I hemmed DH's pants and tried to clean the house to keep myself busy but as usual I overdid it. By the time the funeral rolled around I could barely stand but I made it through. It was one of the largest I have seen in a very long time and I cried my way through it. Silent tears streaming down my face, embracing my loved ones.
Nothing can prepare you for seeing your father cry though. My dad is such a strong man and I've seen him tear up but a few times but when he openly stood there staring at his brother's casket and loudly weeping, no one could take it. My sister, mother and I closed ranks and surrounded him and openly cried for him, with him and for the rest. Nothing prepares you for your family growing old. We have buried two uncles within the past three months. My father is the only brother left among his siblings. Two of my aunts are sick and on the other side of the family the numbers are dwindling. I wouldn't be surprised if before this year is over we are burying four more.
How do you make it through such upheavals of emotions in such short time periods? Elation and joy over family coming together to welcome my baby boy to sadness and grief a few days later over losing one of our own? Not to mention the stress in between with the Dr's etc.
Needless to say, I have not touched my blogs in a week or more. It's just been too much. I didn't know what to say, how to form the words. I missed my weekly update but I just couldn't bring myself to post it amidst everything going on.
And now we have return to normal, but I feel like I've forever been changed. My aloof self that was happy in my own little world with my husband and baby and dogs is gone. I'm clinging to my expanded family and I want Matthew to know them. To have those memories of cousins and crazy adventures and not just at funerals and reunions every other year. I want him to know vacations and holidays and all the frustration of leaving right on top of your family, the good, the bad and the irritating. I want him to be part of this craziness and tell stories to his children of yesteryear and days gone by.
Yesterday morning my parents met me at Babies R Us with an old car seat and highchair that they had tried to donate to Goodwill. We traded them in at the "Trade In Event" and even though Mom and Dad had just bought us our Pack N Play the weekend before for the shower, they shelled out the money for one of our carseats and a few small items. I took full advantage of the sale and coupons to pick up the other carseat, the baby tub set, hooded towels, several outfits and a boppy.
So even though the night before we had just celebrated the life and passing of family, the next morning we still looked to the future and prepared for Matthew. We cried for one and cooed over the cuteness of baby things and the circle continued. This morning I went to church, a church that my grandmother helped start and that my family still attends and I was welcomed with open arms by my aunts and the congregation and they spoke of my Uncle and his passing with fondness and admiration and I cried again. One life that has touched so many in his way, and I hope and pray that I can do the same and raise this precious little boy to make such an impact on his family and community.
I hope, I find the strength and the way to keep this generation tied so closely together and loving and supporting each other the way the generation before me did. We have a lot of stories to create, a lot of life to live to come anywhere close, but I've seen how important it is, and Matthew has led me to see the worth in trying.
Tuesday I found out my Uncle (and neighbor) died during the night. It hit me hard. He was like a grandfather to me, this giant presence always in my life. I spent the next few days in a haze of trying to finish up Thank You notes from the Shower, Dr's appointments, work during the day, and spending every night with my family next door at my cousins, taking food over, sharing stories and tears.
Thursday afternoon, at the second NonStress Test I had a melt down. For twenty minutes two different nurses could not pick up the heartbeat. Even though I had felt him move on the way there, I lost it. The stress came crashing in and I panicked. Everything was fine though. He was in a wierd position and the machine was having trouble keeping the heartbeat but once he started moving his test came back perfect. They left me hooked up longer because of that though and so I was stiff and uncomfortable by the time I was done. I rushed off to the Viewing Service at the funeral home and stayed till the very end spending time among my family.
Friday was one of the hardest days in a long long time. I had the day off work since the funeral was at 2 so I spent the morning running errands: hem tape for DH's suit pants, dress shoes for him (as this was the first time EVER my husband donned a suit. He didn't even wear one at our wedding!) the post office to mail out TY notes. I hemmed DH's pants and tried to clean the house to keep myself busy but as usual I overdid it. By the time the funeral rolled around I could barely stand but I made it through. It was one of the largest I have seen in a very long time and I cried my way through it. Silent tears streaming down my face, embracing my loved ones.
Nothing can prepare you for seeing your father cry though. My dad is such a strong man and I've seen him tear up but a few times but when he openly stood there staring at his brother's casket and loudly weeping, no one could take it. My sister, mother and I closed ranks and surrounded him and openly cried for him, with him and for the rest. Nothing prepares you for your family growing old. We have buried two uncles within the past three months. My father is the only brother left among his siblings. Two of my aunts are sick and on the other side of the family the numbers are dwindling. I wouldn't be surprised if before this year is over we are burying four more.
How do you make it through such upheavals of emotions in such short time periods? Elation and joy over family coming together to welcome my baby boy to sadness and grief a few days later over losing one of our own? Not to mention the stress in between with the Dr's etc.
Needless to say, I have not touched my blogs in a week or more. It's just been too much. I didn't know what to say, how to form the words. I missed my weekly update but I just couldn't bring myself to post it amidst everything going on.
And now we have return to normal, but I feel like I've forever been changed. My aloof self that was happy in my own little world with my husband and baby and dogs is gone. I'm clinging to my expanded family and I want Matthew to know them. To have those memories of cousins and crazy adventures and not just at funerals and reunions every other year. I want him to know vacations and holidays and all the frustration of leaving right on top of your family, the good, the bad and the irritating. I want him to be part of this craziness and tell stories to his children of yesteryear and days gone by.
Yesterday morning my parents met me at Babies R Us with an old car seat and highchair that they had tried to donate to Goodwill. We traded them in at the "Trade In Event" and even though Mom and Dad had just bought us our Pack N Play the weekend before for the shower, they shelled out the money for one of our carseats and a few small items. I took full advantage of the sale and coupons to pick up the other carseat, the baby tub set, hooded towels, several outfits and a boppy.
So even though the night before we had just celebrated the life and passing of family, the next morning we still looked to the future and prepared for Matthew. We cried for one and cooed over the cuteness of baby things and the circle continued. This morning I went to church, a church that my grandmother helped start and that my family still attends and I was welcomed with open arms by my aunts and the congregation and they spoke of my Uncle and his passing with fondness and admiration and I cried again. One life that has touched so many in his way, and I hope and pray that I can do the same and raise this precious little boy to make such an impact on his family and community.
I hope, I find the strength and the way to keep this generation tied so closely together and loving and supporting each other the way the generation before me did. We have a lot of stories to create, a lot of life to live to come anywhere close, but I've seen how important it is, and Matthew has led me to see the worth in trying.
Monday, November 15, 2010
I don't think I can take much more today
I got a text from a dear friend of mine who has given up on having children due to severe endometriosis. She could never get pregnant. She texted me that she went to the dr. due to severe pain only to find out she was having a miscarriage. A baby she never even knew about due to a slippage of a hormonal IUD that the Dr's had recommended she get to help her body's hormones etc. They will be doing a D and C. My heart is broken today.
I’m depressed and feeling lost and my heart is breaking for her. I pray I have the strength to help her through this, through the tumult that my mind and heart are in.
I pray that I can shoulder all the emotions that are overwhelming me today, not just hers, but my own.
Dear Lord,
Please give me the strength to make it through and be strong for my friend. Help me to put aside my own discontent and awkward feelings for the next few days so that i may lead her through this terrible time. She has come to me for help because she knows I've been through this. Please do not let me let her down.
Help me to dry my tears (and get out of this bathroom at work), get through the day with strength and courage. Help my sweet friend find peace and love and understanding in this tragic event.
I know Bumblebee is taking care of her little one and giving him/her comfort. Help me give my friend that calm comfort that people provided to me.
Lord give me strength.
I’m depressed and feeling lost and my heart is breaking for her. I pray I have the strength to help her through this, through the tumult that my mind and heart are in.
I pray that I can shoulder all the emotions that are overwhelming me today, not just hers, but my own.
Dear Lord,
Please give me the strength to make it through and be strong for my friend. Help me to put aside my own discontent and awkward feelings for the next few days so that i may lead her through this terrible time. She has come to me for help because she knows I've been through this. Please do not let me let her down.
Help me to dry my tears (and get out of this bathroom at work), get through the day with strength and courage. Help my sweet friend find peace and love and understanding in this tragic event.
I know Bumblebee is taking care of her little one and giving him/her comfort. Help me give my friend that calm comfort that people provided to me.
Lord give me strength.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Circle of Life- RIP Uncle Chuck
We often forget in our obsession with our babies and starting a family that there is an end. All life ends and we take it for granted. Those who have experienced infant loss, know intimately how quickly things end and carry with them a heavy dose of fear for the future.
When we finally get past a comfort point, we know that there are still things that can happen and we retain that apprehension through it all but we find a comfort level. It all floods back in when there is a loss of any kind.
Yesterday, my Uncle died. I’ve lost all my grandparents save one and a year ago I lost a Great Uncle but this is the closest family member to die in a long time. I was not close to him but he was family. I remember the big family holiday dinners when my grandmother was still alive when Uncle Chuck and his wife would come by. They were always
immaculately dressed and proper. I was always in awe of them because they were so put together. My dad respected his oldest brother. There was almost a 20 year difference.
While my father was in diapers, his brother was fighting the German’s in World War II. At a young age he was cleaning out concentration camps and seeing the evils of humanity, greed and power. Yet, he came home to be an upstanding family man and remained true and faithful to his church. He was married for 60 years and raised three children. He suffered losing a granddaughter at the age of 8 who was born with half a heart. He lived a long and productive life and in the end he was able to leave the pain of pancreatic cancer behind and go home to heaven.
Tomorrow will be hard. Tomorrow I have to be strong for my father who is upset and grieving. We lost my grandmother on Thanksgiving 7 years ago. I never met my grandfather. He died 37 years ago before I was born. I can only imagine what is going through my father’s head as his big family ages before his eyes. He just turned 60 (he’s the youngest of 6 children) and I can see the age wearing on him.
Times like this I wonder what the future holds. Will my children get a chance to know their grandparents and have a relationship with them that they can remember. Will they know the joys of a large extended family? Will they get to run wild in the woods playing hide and seek with their cousins?
I started late in life. I’m 32 having my first child. My parents are 58 and 60. Sometimes I wonder what kind of life and traditions my children will remember. They will be different from mine. They will hold things dear to their hearts but will they know the same joys, love, sorrow, I know? Sometimes the future scares me. I can’t imagine life without my parents, cousins, etc. That day is coming but its not today.
Today I have to remember the life of a great family man who was loved by many. Today I have to celebrate the continuance of the circle starting with HLB. There is joy even in the passing. There is a tomorrow even in the dawn of today.
When we finally get past a comfort point, we know that there are still things that can happen and we retain that apprehension through it all but we find a comfort level. It all floods back in when there is a loss of any kind.
Yesterday, my Uncle died. I’ve lost all my grandparents save one and a year ago I lost a Great Uncle but this is the closest family member to die in a long time. I was not close to him but he was family. I remember the big family holiday dinners when my grandmother was still alive when Uncle Chuck and his wife would come by. They were always
immaculately dressed and proper. I was always in awe of them because they were so put together. My dad respected his oldest brother. There was almost a 20 year difference.
While my father was in diapers, his brother was fighting the German’s in World War II. At a young age he was cleaning out concentration camps and seeing the evils of humanity, greed and power. Yet, he came home to be an upstanding family man and remained true and faithful to his church. He was married for 60 years and raised three children. He suffered losing a granddaughter at the age of 8 who was born with half a heart. He lived a long and productive life and in the end he was able to leave the pain of pancreatic cancer behind and go home to heaven.
Tomorrow will be hard. Tomorrow I have to be strong for my father who is upset and grieving. We lost my grandmother on Thanksgiving 7 years ago. I never met my grandfather. He died 37 years ago before I was born. I can only imagine what is going through my father’s head as his big family ages before his eyes. He just turned 60 (he’s the youngest of 6 children) and I can see the age wearing on him.
Times like this I wonder what the future holds. Will my children get a chance to know their grandparents and have a relationship with them that they can remember. Will they know the joys of a large extended family? Will they get to run wild in the woods playing hide and seek with their cousins?
I started late in life. I’m 32 having my first child. My parents are 58 and 60. Sometimes I wonder what kind of life and traditions my children will remember. They will be different from mine. They will hold things dear to their hearts but will they know the same joys, love, sorrow, I know? Sometimes the future scares me. I can’t imagine life without my parents, cousins, etc. That day is coming but its not today.
Today I have to remember the life of a great family man who was loved by many. Today I have to celebrate the continuance of the circle starting with HLB. There is joy even in the passing. There is a tomorrow even in the dawn of today.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Time is Slow but it flies by
One year ago today, I was sitting at home grieving, wondering what I should do. Not ready to let go even though everything was already gone. Not wanting to take that final step that would say Goodbye.
I just realized what today is. October 22nd. Which means I completely forgot about the 19th. It slipped past me and I was so consumed with the cramps and feeling off, worrying about HLB that I didn’t even make the connection that that was the day I found out we had lost Bumblebee.
I know that’s not the day Bumblebee died, but its still a day of the pain. I was so consumed with what was going on now, that I didn’t even think of it and now I feel like a horrible person for forgetting my 1st baby.
What kind of mother am I going to be? I have a horrible memory for dates. Maybe I should reconsider having two children.
I’ve been living in this world of progression. Trying to get through each slow week to get to the next thing, the next marker of time that brings me closer to knowing my baby on a more intimate level: knowing sex, feeling more of a bump, feeling kicks, DH feeling kicks, picking a name, buying something just for him/her.
Am I losing part of my past, part of what makes me who I am, and the love I’ve felt because I’m living for tomorrow? How do I slow myself down before I regret what I’ve missed trying to get THERE?
I just realized what today is. October 22nd. Which means I completely forgot about the 19th. It slipped past me and I was so consumed with the cramps and feeling off, worrying about HLB that I didn’t even make the connection that that was the day I found out we had lost Bumblebee.
I know that’s not the day Bumblebee died, but its still a day of the pain. I was so consumed with what was going on now, that I didn’t even think of it and now I feel like a horrible person for forgetting my 1st baby.
What kind of mother am I going to be? I have a horrible memory for dates. Maybe I should reconsider having two children.
I’ve been living in this world of progression. Trying to get through each slow week to get to the next thing, the next marker of time that brings me closer to knowing my baby on a more intimate level: knowing sex, feeling more of a bump, feeling kicks, DH feeling kicks, picking a name, buying something just for him/her.
Am I losing part of my past, part of what makes me who I am, and the love I’ve felt because I’m living for tomorrow? How do I slow myself down before I regret what I’ve missed trying to get THERE?
Friday, October 15, 2010
National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day
I wasn't sure I would write about today. I've done my best to actually avoid thinking too much about what today is and how much it hurts. Last year at this time I was mourning the babies that have been lost and all the beautiful and strong mother's who were not holding their precious babes. I didn't know that my own precious baby was already dead. Last year, I was still living in my wonderful world of innocence and bliss about my own pregnancy.
October 19th is the day my world officially fell apart when we found the missed miscarriage. All I have to do is close my eyes and it all comes rushing back as if I were there again, the smells, the dr's office, the feeling of my heart being torn in two. This year, on this day, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day means so much more to me. I never gave birth. I never saw my baby or even knew what the sex was but it doesn't matter. Bumblebee was my baby and I mourned and I still grieve and think of what would be had things not happened the way it did.
Today, I think of all those other mothers who I can't even bear to name because the tears are already splashing on my keyboard. My heart aches for them.
Even looking forward to holding HLB in my arms, it doesn't diminish the pain of losing Bumblebee. Today, I grieve and I dread the 19th. Today, I send hope out into the world for the others like me who have known loss and pain. Today, I pray that our angels are high in the clouds frolicking in joy and peace having never known the sorrow of this world.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
For Matthew
Sometimes you can't let the pain in. You hear some news that hurts your heart until you physically feel the pain trying to tear out of your chest, but you can't let it take you over because you have to remember you have a baby to protect.
When you have been through loss and pain and struggle, and you bond with others, you intimately feel their hurt and love with every thought and breath. No matter what you have been through though, you can't imagine what it is like for them as they fight their way through this battle.
All you can do is pray. Pray like crazy and hope beyond hope that miracles happen and that they find the strength to make it through.
Today another life went home to heaven, but I still can’t wrap my brain around the unfairness of it all. How such kind people that I know have to go through tragedy over and over again. I know there is a plan for everyone and something great is in their future, but is it truly necessary to inflict this much pain and heartbreak on such good people?
I am no one to question God, and I pray that he gives this family peace and strength and shows them his light and love on a path riddled with trials. I pray that Matthew Finley is with his sister Katie Jane in heaven watching over their parents with pride and love at the lives they were almost given and they know above all else, that their parents loved them more than anything in the world. People all over the world who have followed their short journeys continue to love and pray for them and their parents.
I am truly heartbroken by the news. I just want to snuggle in with my arms wrapped around my own baby and know that he/she is safe and healthy inside and that I will meet a happy baby in March. I know it is all out of our control but I can’t help but feel this pain intimately. I have known so many to suffer loss halfway through and I grieve with them. This is just a reminder of all those who have come before and I can’t help but grieve all over for all of them.
To all of you who have been through loss, I am thinking of you today. Today I will shed tears for all the babies I know who are playing with the angels. Today, I cry for sweet TW’s family and precious baby Matthew Finley. I will laugh for the joy and hope that these babies brought to their parents even if only for mere moments in time. I will smile for the hearts they have touched in their short existences. I will remember for they will never be forgotten and will always be a light shining in this world for many people. Today, I will pray for those families who grieve and hope God grants them peace and strength. Tonight, when I lay down to sleep, I will dream of these beautiful children who have gone before us, playing in a meadow on a beautiful day, forever free and happy knowing only that they have been loved so deeply, no harm from this world can ever touch them. They will never know the pain we know, the horrors of the world, the uncertainty of future, the anguish of struggle and loss. They will know only of the feelings of absolute love they experienced in their few moments, and the happiness of the place they are in now.
When you have been through loss and pain and struggle, and you bond with others, you intimately feel their hurt and love with every thought and breath. No matter what you have been through though, you can't imagine what it is like for them as they fight their way through this battle.
All you can do is pray. Pray like crazy and hope beyond hope that miracles happen and that they find the strength to make it through.
Today another life went home to heaven, but I still can’t wrap my brain around the unfairness of it all. How such kind people that I know have to go through tragedy over and over again. I know there is a plan for everyone and something great is in their future, but is it truly necessary to inflict this much pain and heartbreak on such good people?
I am no one to question God, and I pray that he gives this family peace and strength and shows them his light and love on a path riddled with trials. I pray that Matthew Finley is with his sister Katie Jane in heaven watching over their parents with pride and love at the lives they were almost given and they know above all else, that their parents loved them more than anything in the world. People all over the world who have followed their short journeys continue to love and pray for them and their parents.
I am truly heartbroken by the news. I just want to snuggle in with my arms wrapped around my own baby and know that he/she is safe and healthy inside and that I will meet a happy baby in March. I know it is all out of our control but I can’t help but feel this pain intimately. I have known so many to suffer loss halfway through and I grieve with them. This is just a reminder of all those who have come before and I can’t help but grieve all over for all of them.
To all of you who have been through loss, I am thinking of you today. Today I will shed tears for all the babies I know who are playing with the angels. Today, I cry for sweet TW’s family and precious baby Matthew Finley. I will laugh for the joy and hope that these babies brought to their parents even if only for mere moments in time. I will smile for the hearts they have touched in their short existences. I will remember for they will never be forgotten and will always be a light shining in this world for many people. Today, I will pray for those families who grieve and hope God grants them peace and strength. Tonight, when I lay down to sleep, I will dream of these beautiful children who have gone before us, playing in a meadow on a beautiful day, forever free and happy knowing only that they have been loved so deeply, no harm from this world can ever touch them. They will never know the pain we know, the horrors of the world, the uncertainty of future, the anguish of struggle and loss. They will know only of the feelings of absolute love they experienced in their few moments, and the happiness of the place they are in now.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The See Saw goes up and down
So I did what I didn’t think I would let myself do last night and I’m not sure it was a good thing. I dug out “The Pregnancy Bible” from where I had it stashed away with all the baby books, onesies etc that people had given me or been purchased during Bumblebee’s pregnancy.
I had told myself that I would only pull it out and start looking at the progression of baby etc. when baby made it PAST where Bumblebee did. I didn’t want to go through the same weeks again, only to fail again and have to put everything away AGAIN. I want to share with this baby uncharted territory without any painful memories. I couldn’t resist trying to get an idea of where baby might be and how far apart the growth rate is between where ultrasound said I should be and where my dates tell me I should be (again with the overanalyzing, sheesh!)
I’m trying to prepare myself for what I MAY see on the ultrasound and rationalize how far off measurements can be. I’m starting to obsess. I’ve done pretty well keeping my mind off of it up till now, but I can’t seem to help myself. I tried focusing on the stuff that we would pick out and need, but after a few days of that, I gave up because its too depressing thinking I won’t get to actually BUY anything this time around either.
It’s hard feeling that everything is going along fine because I don’t FEEL pregnant. I don’t have morning sickness or nausea or anything like last time. (yes, I know, I’ve been over this already on the blog.) Stephen tried to give me a laundry list of things that are different:
• I’ve gotten dizzy a few times standing up (what like twice? I did that once in a blue moon before pregnancy).
• I’m tired all the time (I went through phases of exhaustion before pregnancy too when I try to do so much or am not eating or sleeping well).
• I have heartburn (yea, I don’t really have a rebuttal for that one as I don’t have heartburn on a daily basis as norm)
• My boobs are tender (but they get tender occasionally during pms as well)
• My boobs are bigger (yea I can’t argue that one either. I’m falling out of my bra and he’s become even more obsessive about them because they are visibly larger and IN YOUR FACE).
Even when he calmly and rationally tried to make this list for me, I still can’t convince myself that I am indeed pregnant with a progressing and growing baby. I fight this fear of what we will see (or rather won’t see). Some days are better than others but they are still there. There are still days, like last night and today that I can’t wrap my brain around the possibility that this won’t turn out bad.
There are some days where I see myself pregnant at each holiday, and the things I will do, and when the milestones are. Those are happy days, where I rub my stomach and smile at the things to come.
It’s the days like today that are tough to get through. I’m a fairly strong person. I’m a scrapper. I try to fight myself to remain calm and peaceful and I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it, but lord have mercy, these days are tough.
I expect everyone who has experienced loss, will never be the same when it comes to pregnancy. No matter how far you get or how many successes you have, we forever will carry the scars of the pain of that one loss. That one time that even though its not our fault, we failed. We failed at the first task of being a good mother. It’s not something I care to repeat. I don’t know if I can handle losing another and I don’t want to find out how “strong” I am.
I had told myself that I would only pull it out and start looking at the progression of baby etc. when baby made it PAST where Bumblebee did. I didn’t want to go through the same weeks again, only to fail again and have to put everything away AGAIN. I want to share with this baby uncharted territory without any painful memories. I couldn’t resist trying to get an idea of where baby might be and how far apart the growth rate is between where ultrasound said I should be and where my dates tell me I should be (again with the overanalyzing, sheesh!)
I’m trying to prepare myself for what I MAY see on the ultrasound and rationalize how far off measurements can be. I’m starting to obsess. I’ve done pretty well keeping my mind off of it up till now, but I can’t seem to help myself. I tried focusing on the stuff that we would pick out and need, but after a few days of that, I gave up because its too depressing thinking I won’t get to actually BUY anything this time around either.
It’s hard feeling that everything is going along fine because I don’t FEEL pregnant. I don’t have morning sickness or nausea or anything like last time. (yes, I know, I’ve been over this already on the blog.) Stephen tried to give me a laundry list of things that are different:
• I’ve gotten dizzy a few times standing up (what like twice? I did that once in a blue moon before pregnancy).
• I’m tired all the time (I went through phases of exhaustion before pregnancy too when I try to do so much or am not eating or sleeping well).
• I have heartburn (yea, I don’t really have a rebuttal for that one as I don’t have heartburn on a daily basis as norm)
• My boobs are tender (but they get tender occasionally during pms as well)
• My boobs are bigger (yea I can’t argue that one either. I’m falling out of my bra and he’s become even more obsessive about them because they are visibly larger and IN YOUR FACE).
Even when he calmly and rationally tried to make this list for me, I still can’t convince myself that I am indeed pregnant with a progressing and growing baby. I fight this fear of what we will see (or rather won’t see). Some days are better than others but they are still there. There are still days, like last night and today that I can’t wrap my brain around the possibility that this won’t turn out bad.
There are some days where I see myself pregnant at each holiday, and the things I will do, and when the milestones are. Those are happy days, where I rub my stomach and smile at the things to come.
It’s the days like today that are tough to get through. I’m a fairly strong person. I’m a scrapper. I try to fight myself to remain calm and peaceful and I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it, but lord have mercy, these days are tough.
I expect everyone who has experienced loss, will never be the same when it comes to pregnancy. No matter how far you get or how many successes you have, we forever will carry the scars of the pain of that one loss. That one time that even though its not our fault, we failed. We failed at the first task of being a good mother. It’s not something I care to repeat. I don’t know if I can handle losing another and I don’t want to find out how “strong” I am.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A long glimpse of Fraudulant Me
I’ve been there. I’ve been to the point of giving up…and beyond. I’m still going.
I question myself sometimes because it’s often easier for me to just keep living this monotonous life without children. After an emotional year full of drugs, hope, happiness and bitter defeat, I mourned. Then I moved on. I buried the pain on a daily basis and found it easier to breathe if I didn’t think about it. I actually put it off longer than medically necessary because I was more scared at that point of feeling the pain again than of living without a child. But the desire is still there. It creeps in. Then the excitement creeps in. The inevitable disappointment every month. The jealousy of other’s joy. The pain of a passing date. I’m not together ALL the time.
I realized that I’ve harbored all those emotions in a calm port…with a hurricane right offshore. Occasionally a gust blows in, but the sun is still shining with increasing turbulence brewing.
I captain a ship of strength for the world to see. I pat the knees of my friends as they go through the raw emotions and I want to help them because I’ve been there. I offer advice of how to cope to those suffering with IF, PCOS and loss. But I’m a FRAUD.
I’m not this strong. There are just places inside me that are dead. They’ve been repressed and buried so long that half the time I don’t remember how to grieve or feel. I hold myself up to this standard of strength. I can’t allow myself to show weakness and vulnerability.
I’ve always been the strong one. The Ice Queen has nothing on me. I’m the one friends run to to defend them, to stand up for them. If someone needs a body buried (figuratively speaking), I’m the girl that borrows a truck, drives out to nowhere, digs the hole, dumps it in, covers it with Lyme and disposes of evidence in a methodical manner. I’m the girl that looks the cop in the eye with a quirked eyebrow and says “he’s missing? REALLY? Well we should have seen that one coming. Check in Mexico.”
Inwardly, I’m LT. DAN strapping myself to the mast in a storm screaming at God. But I had that even from myself. I rarely show it. I show the strength to continue on despite missing my legs (or more accurately my heart). I try and comfort those around me with alcohol and whores (too far with the Forrest Gump references? Okay). But I wonder if I’m living a lie. Is this who I am? Why do I not want to show the world my pain? Except in snippets. I don’t mind looking occasionally schizophrenic but heave forbid I show my weakness and pain too often.
I often look at other people and question their level of pain. Are they over exaggerating for a myriad of reasons I make up in my own head. Please don’t hate me for saying this but I compare them with me. Of course, I see my situation as worse than some and say “how come they don’t have it together like me? They are ridiculous and petty.” I make my emotional repression into a martyr. AND I’m WRONG! It has nothing to do with anyone else. It has to do with my stupid emotional repression. The forcing of myself to be strong, to hide my pain when I can, to keep going on for others, to “get over it already”.
I don’t regret being strength to others, even if sometimes I fake it. I love all my friends and will be there through their hard times: divorce, fights, IF, foreclosure, etc. And when I give them a chance, they are always there for me.
Sometimes I stumble along the way in my journey. I jump off the path because I’m scared. I’m scared I won’t make it through more pain or the unknown. I’m trying really hard to take my own advice-to let go and FEEL and keep chasing your dreams.
I don’t want to give up. I don’t’ want my friends to give up. I want to continue to be a pillar of strength but I need to learn how to let go and not always play it off. (and I’m not there because I don’t want to talk about this with any of you reading it..LOL)
I show more emotion HERE and to those who know me online then to those who only know me IRL. I’m closer emotionally and more truthful to those online and those IRL who got to now me online.
The one instance of REAL life emotion is sitting on the floor of one of my Best Friend’s new kitchen unpacking her pots and pans with her and my other BFF and I lost it. I just sat there and cried with both of them holding me a month after my M/C.
AND I APOLOGIZED! That image sticks with me. It sneaks up and bites me on the ass and says “what’s your problem.” Maybe if you weren’t such a hardened bitch you could get pregnant. And then the other voice comes in and says “but if you never do at least you will have protected yourself and hardened yourself against the daily hell that is IF.”
I don’t have the answers. I act like I do. Some days are good days, some days I am truly excited about life and enjoying the things I set out to do. I truly care about all of you. It’s ME I lie to. It’s ME I pretend that everything is okay no matter what happens. And it is not. But I’m not giving up yet. I haven’t crossed that bridge of deception with myself and I continue to fight for my dreams, through the haze of disappointment.
I question myself sometimes because it’s often easier for me to just keep living this monotonous life without children. After an emotional year full of drugs, hope, happiness and bitter defeat, I mourned. Then I moved on. I buried the pain on a daily basis and found it easier to breathe if I didn’t think about it. I actually put it off longer than medically necessary because I was more scared at that point of feeling the pain again than of living without a child. But the desire is still there. It creeps in. Then the excitement creeps in. The inevitable disappointment every month. The jealousy of other’s joy. The pain of a passing date. I’m not together ALL the time.
I realized that I’ve harbored all those emotions in a calm port…with a hurricane right offshore. Occasionally a gust blows in, but the sun is still shining with increasing turbulence brewing.
I captain a ship of strength for the world to see. I pat the knees of my friends as they go through the raw emotions and I want to help them because I’ve been there. I offer advice of how to cope to those suffering with IF, PCOS and loss. But I’m a FRAUD.
I’m not this strong. There are just places inside me that are dead. They’ve been repressed and buried so long that half the time I don’t remember how to grieve or feel. I hold myself up to this standard of strength. I can’t allow myself to show weakness and vulnerability.
I’ve always been the strong one. The Ice Queen has nothing on me. I’m the one friends run to to defend them, to stand up for them. If someone needs a body buried (figuratively speaking), I’m the girl that borrows a truck, drives out to nowhere, digs the hole, dumps it in, covers it with Lyme and disposes of evidence in a methodical manner. I’m the girl that looks the cop in the eye with a quirked eyebrow and says “he’s missing? REALLY? Well we should have seen that one coming. Check in Mexico.”
Inwardly, I’m LT. DAN strapping myself to the mast in a storm screaming at God. But I had that even from myself. I rarely show it. I show the strength to continue on despite missing my legs (or more accurately my heart). I try and comfort those around me with alcohol and whores (too far with the Forrest Gump references? Okay). But I wonder if I’m living a lie. Is this who I am? Why do I not want to show the world my pain? Except in snippets. I don’t mind looking occasionally schizophrenic but heave forbid I show my weakness and pain too often.
I often look at other people and question their level of pain. Are they over exaggerating for a myriad of reasons I make up in my own head. Please don’t hate me for saying this but I compare them with me. Of course, I see my situation as worse than some and say “how come they don’t have it together like me? They are ridiculous and petty.” I make my emotional repression into a martyr. AND I’m WRONG! It has nothing to do with anyone else. It has to do with my stupid emotional repression. The forcing of myself to be strong, to hide my pain when I can, to keep going on for others, to “get over it already”.
I don’t regret being strength to others, even if sometimes I fake it. I love all my friends and will be there through their hard times: divorce, fights, IF, foreclosure, etc. And when I give them a chance, they are always there for me.
Sometimes I stumble along the way in my journey. I jump off the path because I’m scared. I’m scared I won’t make it through more pain or the unknown. I’m trying really hard to take my own advice-to let go and FEEL and keep chasing your dreams.
I don’t want to give up. I don’t’ want my friends to give up. I want to continue to be a pillar of strength but I need to learn how to let go and not always play it off. (and I’m not there because I don’t want to talk about this with any of you reading it..LOL)
I show more emotion HERE and to those who know me online then to those who only know me IRL. I’m closer emotionally and more truthful to those online and those IRL who got to now me online.
The one instance of REAL life emotion is sitting on the floor of one of my Best Friend’s new kitchen unpacking her pots and pans with her and my other BFF and I lost it. I just sat there and cried with both of them holding me a month after my M/C.
AND I APOLOGIZED! That image sticks with me. It sneaks up and bites me on the ass and says “what’s your problem.” Maybe if you weren’t such a hardened bitch you could get pregnant. And then the other voice comes in and says “but if you never do at least you will have protected yourself and hardened yourself against the daily hell that is IF.”
I don’t have the answers. I act like I do. Some days are good days, some days I am truly excited about life and enjoying the things I set out to do. I truly care about all of you. It’s ME I lie to. It’s ME I pretend that everything is okay no matter what happens. And it is not. But I’m not giving up yet. I haven’t crossed that bridge of deception with myself and I continue to fight for my dreams, through the haze of disappointment.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Bitterness
I am trying really hard not to be bitter and depressed. I have my moments. Unfortunately, the news has been covering a tragedy in our local area about a little 5 year old girl who went missing. As the story has progressed over the past week we learned that the mother sold the child as a sex slave. I could not be more apalled. Last night we learned that the little girl's body had been recovered about an hour from my home.
I cried. I cried for what this little girl has suffered through at the hands of her own mother who didn't love her. I cried for yet another life that would never bloom. I cried for my child.
This morning I learned that the 'mother' (and i use the term loosely here) sits in jail: Pregnant. PREGNANT!
The unfairness, the wretchedness. I have no words for the anger and hurt. I know it has nothing to do with me and mine but it still hurts. I cry for her children and those that love them. I cry for me and my husband who want nothing more than to see a child grow up loved and happy and to share our love.
Hug your children tonight. Rub your growing bellies and pray for those children who are not loved.
I cried. I cried for what this little girl has suffered through at the hands of her own mother who didn't love her. I cried for yet another life that would never bloom. I cried for my child.
This morning I learned that the 'mother' (and i use the term loosely here) sits in jail: Pregnant. PREGNANT!
The unfairness, the wretchedness. I have no words for the anger and hurt. I know it has nothing to do with me and mine but it still hurts. I cry for her children and those that love them. I cry for me and my husband who want nothing more than to see a child grow up loved and happy and to share our love.
Hug your children tonight. Rub your growing bellies and pray for those children who are not loved.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Warrior Mother
DH and I attended Robbies Wake/Visitation last night. It was not as hard as I expected. I have this innate ability to lock things down in time of crisis, to put myself on hold for the sake of others. I don't control it or make a concious effort of it, it just happens when I see someone crying, upset, distraught, I go into automatic comforting mode. Robbie looked young again, the ravages of his pain and disease were gone and he was at peace lying in his final bed. How could I be sad for this vibrant man who had lived in so much pain and discomfort when I knew he was at peace and healed. I couldn't. This amazing sense of complete and utter stillness filled me and I was happy for him.
His family on the other hand, were devastated. His sister, bless her heart, was lost in a sea of tears the whole night. His wife, Vicki, was holding together amazingly well. She was on autopilot ofcourse, seeing to the details, struggling to hold back the tears and greet people and stay strong for all the kids. You could see it the way she rubbed one of their backs as they cuddled closer or how she rubbed her hand down her little boys hair as he passed by. She was the perfect image of a Mother. This amazing woman with 4 inche black stilletos tucked under her chair, stockinged feet stepping softly on carpet, red rimmed eyes, and a long black dress smiling and hugging people as they passed. She truly amazed me. In her grief and strength she was a goddess of motherhood and someone I can look up to.
I greeted those I knew, held his sister while she cried, hugged my friends as they struggled to be stronger for the sake of his family. I chatted in the sunshine outside with a group of old friends as we laughed about all the good times and crazy things we had done at Robbie's house and where everyone was now. We planned for the future, in the way he would have wanted us to. We discussed getting everyone back together for a reunion in his honor and trying to keep better lines of communication open to stay in touch. We passed around new phone numbers, a few tears, some comforting smiles and hugs (and all secretly wondered when we could go searching for that bottle of Jack Daniels that some one was bound to have stashed under the seat in their car.)
Through it all, the one thing I kept coming back to was Vicki. This woman showed me in a two hour period what it was to truly be a strong loving mother and wife. I grew up a little more last night in the shadow of death. I realized that I'm not only going to have to be this provider and nurturer but I'm going to have to put aside everything that I am sometimes and be a warrior, a lioness, a pillar of strength. Not just in times that cause for protection which we all expect. Every one of us knows that should something threaten our families we would kill to protect them. I have no problem with that. But we have to also put our grief and fear aside in times of pain and be the strong ones for our children. At this moment, I can not imagine the absolute pain and tragedy that would befall me if I lost my husband. I would be devastated beyond compare, but I know that WHEN we succeed in having children, I will be strong for them. I will be XENA, warrior mother, when I have to be. I have it in me. It does not diminish my desire in the least bit. It only makes it stronger to see a family, so loving, so full of life, being held together by that strongest of links: a true mother.
His family on the other hand, were devastated. His sister, bless her heart, was lost in a sea of tears the whole night. His wife, Vicki, was holding together amazingly well. She was on autopilot ofcourse, seeing to the details, struggling to hold back the tears and greet people and stay strong for all the kids. You could see it the way she rubbed one of their backs as they cuddled closer or how she rubbed her hand down her little boys hair as he passed by. She was the perfect image of a Mother. This amazing woman with 4 inche black stilletos tucked under her chair, stockinged feet stepping softly on carpet, red rimmed eyes, and a long black dress smiling and hugging people as they passed. She truly amazed me. In her grief and strength she was a goddess of motherhood and someone I can look up to.
I greeted those I knew, held his sister while she cried, hugged my friends as they struggled to be stronger for the sake of his family. I chatted in the sunshine outside with a group of old friends as we laughed about all the good times and crazy things we had done at Robbie's house and where everyone was now. We planned for the future, in the way he would have wanted us to. We discussed getting everyone back together for a reunion in his honor and trying to keep better lines of communication open to stay in touch. We passed around new phone numbers, a few tears, some comforting smiles and hugs (and all secretly wondered when we could go searching for that bottle of Jack Daniels that some one was bound to have stashed under the seat in their car.)
Through it all, the one thing I kept coming back to was Vicki. This woman showed me in a two hour period what it was to truly be a strong loving mother and wife. I grew up a little more last night in the shadow of death. I realized that I'm not only going to have to be this provider and nurturer but I'm going to have to put aside everything that I am sometimes and be a warrior, a lioness, a pillar of strength. Not just in times that cause for protection which we all expect. Every one of us knows that should something threaten our families we would kill to protect them. I have no problem with that. But we have to also put our grief and fear aside in times of pain and be the strong ones for our children. At this moment, I can not imagine the absolute pain and tragedy that would befall me if I lost my husband. I would be devastated beyond compare, but I know that WHEN we succeed in having children, I will be strong for them. I will be XENA, warrior mother, when I have to be. I have it in me. It does not diminish my desire in the least bit. It only makes it stronger to see a family, so loving, so full of life, being held together by that strongest of links: a true mother.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
R.I.P. Sweet Robbie.
I learned last night that a dear friend of ours passed away. Robbie was not just a friend but he was the heart and soul of our group of friends back in the day that DH and I met. For those of you who do not know, DH and I met online in a chat room. This particular chat room was very active IRL and always had get together's hosted by Robbie at his home. He was one of the friendliest people I have ever met and he always believed in the good in people. He was talented on the computer and a true friend. No one minded driving all over the state to go to Robbie's house as Robbie was in a wheelchair due to MS. I started hanging out with Robbie, his new girlfriend Vicki et al. about five years ago or so. DH was regular member of the chat room who I spoke to several times and we became online friends.
Robbie's big Halloween party was coming up so since DH did not live far from me we decided to meet up and drive down together. He had met and partied with several of them IRL as well as I had but HE and I had never officially met. We met, the rest is history. The first night we met we stayed up talking all night long and were together ever since. A successful romance originating from online friendly flirtations. We spent many nights, days, parties with Robbie and Vicki who were married only a few months after DH and I.
You will never meet a nicer, warmer, more sincere person than Robbie. Despite his disability, his limitations etc. he believed in people and helped anyone any way he could. My heart not only breaks that such a good man was broken and persevered only to be taken at such a young age, but my heart breaks for Vicki who found the love of her life for such a short period of time, and for their children who joined to become one family.
DH and I will be leaving work early tomorrow to make the trip for the wake and to be with our friends who have all come back together to celebrate Robbie's life and mourn his passing, to support Vicki and Robbie's family who we all loved. This will be one of the hardest wakes I have ever had to attend and I am fully prepared to be a crying blubbering mess.
Times like this only reaffirms my desire to be a parent. To take what DH and I have together and share our love and compassion with a child. To teach our child to be loving and compassionate and to have inner strength as sweet Robbie did. To look for the beauty and good in others in a this crazy world.
So while I have these crazy cramps, bloodclots and am fully miserable at work today, I've already steeled myself for the next round of Clomid. I will do this. I will have my baby in my arms and will remember the good people who helped make it possible. I will do everything in my power to show my child the good and love of the world so that he or she may grow up to make their mark on the lives of others.
Robbie/Eagle, I know you are in heaven, and I know you have no more pain and are at peace. We love you and will always miss you.
~Buckin and Raven
Robbie's big Halloween party was coming up so since DH did not live far from me we decided to meet up and drive down together. He had met and partied with several of them IRL as well as I had but HE and I had never officially met. We met, the rest is history. The first night we met we stayed up talking all night long and were together ever since. A successful romance originating from online friendly flirtations. We spent many nights, days, parties with Robbie and Vicki who were married only a few months after DH and I.
You will never meet a nicer, warmer, more sincere person than Robbie. Despite his disability, his limitations etc. he believed in people and helped anyone any way he could. My heart not only breaks that such a good man was broken and persevered only to be taken at such a young age, but my heart breaks for Vicki who found the love of her life for such a short period of time, and for their children who joined to become one family.
DH and I will be leaving work early tomorrow to make the trip for the wake and to be with our friends who have all come back together to celebrate Robbie's life and mourn his passing, to support Vicki and Robbie's family who we all loved. This will be one of the hardest wakes I have ever had to attend and I am fully prepared to be a crying blubbering mess.
Times like this only reaffirms my desire to be a parent. To take what DH and I have together and share our love and compassion with a child. To teach our child to be loving and compassionate and to have inner strength as sweet Robbie did. To look for the beauty and good in others in a this crazy world.
So while I have these crazy cramps, bloodclots and am fully miserable at work today, I've already steeled myself for the next round of Clomid. I will do this. I will have my baby in my arms and will remember the good people who helped make it possible. I will do everything in my power to show my child the good and love of the world so that he or she may grow up to make their mark on the lives of others.
Robbie/Eagle, I know you are in heaven, and I know you have no more pain and are at peace. We love you and will always miss you.
~Buckin and Raven
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