I'm mad.
I'm mad that we are officially part of the Baby Loss Club. This is a club I want nothing to do with. I never asked for this. I never wanted this. Yet here I am, living with it every day. And I'm mad that there are so many other wonderful families that are a part of the same club. Why? Who the Hell decided this was fair. It's not fair, it's not right, there is no justice.
I'm mad that I now know that the worst can, and in fact will, happen when you least expect it. I'm so mad that I had to lose whatever bit of innocence was left in me. I know how cruel fate can be and it pisses me off.
I'm mad that I am not the person that I was before. I came out of this experience changed forever. And yes, maybe someday I'll be able to see some of my personal changes as good, but right now I am just pissed that they were forced on me.
I'm mad at people who act like she never happened. I don't know what I was expecting at Christmas but I sure wasn't expecting my in-laws to completely ignore H. Look, I get it, she died and it's sad and it's awful and no one wants to cry at Christmas. But what's even worse is acting like she never was. Would it be too much to get an ornament in memory of her? Or mention her name? Or even say, "How are you doing? I know it's been rough." But there was nothing. Just silence. Like she never happened. Like our day to day reality wasn't just shredded into a million painful pieces a short seven weeks before. Like it didn't matter and time had already marched on.
I am mad at someone that I thought was a good friend. We've been friends for a long, long time. But where was she when H passed? No seriously, where was she? One text, one voicemail and that's it. No card, so flowers, no sign that this has registered with her at all. This is someone who has her own kids, who says we are close friends. This is someone who has ignored other major events in my life and I feel like this is the last straw for us. I don't know how to tell her I am upset and I certainly don't think she'd understand it anyway. She has a habit of apologizing at the time I say I am upset and then later acting like it was all nothing and I was overacting. I think our friendship has run its course. Sad, but also somewhat freeing.
I'm mad that B and I don't grieve the same way. There are things I need to do to comfort myself but they make him feel worse. And his way of dealing with this makes me feel worse. And right now it feels like he's not willing to meet in the middle and that makes me mad. It feels like he's telling me how to handle my grief and I hate that.
I am mad at myself. I had one job to do. Just one. Keep H safe until she was ready to come out and I couldn't even do it. I'm so pissed. I'm just so incredibly mad that this had to happen to my sweet little girl.
I am mad that I can't make sense of this. I don't know why this happened, or how to prevent it from happening again. I don't know what to do to make myself feel better. And I don't know what to tell my amazing and wonderful friends when they want to help me feel better. Because there is no feeling better right now. And that is incredibly frustrating.
I'm mad that there will be a time that I won't be able to remember the feel of holding H in my arms. There will be a time that I don't remember her smell and the feel of cheek on my cheek. Those memories will fade and it will be like losing her all over again.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Well, That Sucked
Today was my second day back at work since H passed. I thought last Friday, my first day back, would be the hardest. What I didn't account for was that it was the day after New Years and everyone would be on vacation.
Today, however, everyone was back. And it sucked.
I really did miss my co-workers because they are awesome. My team even left me a giant, life sized cardboard cut-out of George Clooney. Complete with a Burger King crown, a tie and of course, handcuffs. Pure Awesomeness. And everyone has been so supportive and kind and wonderful. Which is why I assumed everyone knew what happened.
Turns out that assumption was way off. Way. Off. I had no idea how many people had no idea that we lost H. For me, her loss has been so all consuming, taking up space in every minute of every day, no matter what else was going on. For me, it's a loss I feel so constantly and so deeply that I forget that not everyone around me can feel it too.
So there I was, wandering around saying hi to people when I got the first "You're back! Did you bring pictures?" Huh? Pictures of what? "Not today!" I responded, thinking it was odd that they were asking to see pictures of C. I mean, I know he's adorable, but it seemed a random request.
Then I wandered on and was talking to someone else, when I was approached again, by another well meaning soul. "You had your baby! How is she?" I stared and stammered and had no idea what to say until she figured it out for herself. This pattern continued over and over throughout the day. A well meaning question, me stammering like an idiot and finally the awkward and horrible realization of what I was really saying without saying anything at all.
It was so awful I found myself pondering how bad it would actually be to cut out early after being off for 2 months.
I didn't cut out early though. I stuck it out, and yes I cried in the bathroom when necessary, but I stuck it out. I got through it and it has to get easier right? It can only get easier as word of mouth spreads right? I thought I hated the sad eyes that I get when I walk into a room full of people who know. But having to explain it repeatedly all day, over and over was brutal. I wish I had the words to tell people when they don't know. I wish I didn't have to end up telling them "It's alright" when it's anything but alright. I wish I could stay in my little solitary bubble and not have to face the real world yet. Because today taught me that even though I feel like I've come a long way in the last two months, all it takes is one innocent question and I am firmly back at square one. I'm not ready for real life yet. It's just too much too soon.
Today, however, everyone was back. And it sucked.
I really did miss my co-workers because they are awesome. My team even left me a giant, life sized cardboard cut-out of George Clooney. Complete with a Burger King crown, a tie and of course, handcuffs. Pure Awesomeness. And everyone has been so supportive and kind and wonderful. Which is why I assumed everyone knew what happened.
Turns out that assumption was way off. Way. Off. I had no idea how many people had no idea that we lost H. For me, her loss has been so all consuming, taking up space in every minute of every day, no matter what else was going on. For me, it's a loss I feel so constantly and so deeply that I forget that not everyone around me can feel it too.
So there I was, wandering around saying hi to people when I got the first "You're back! Did you bring pictures?" Huh? Pictures of what? "Not today!" I responded, thinking it was odd that they were asking to see pictures of C. I mean, I know he's adorable, but it seemed a random request.
Then I wandered on and was talking to someone else, when I was approached again, by another well meaning soul. "You had your baby! How is she?" I stared and stammered and had no idea what to say until she figured it out for herself. This pattern continued over and over throughout the day. A well meaning question, me stammering like an idiot and finally the awkward and horrible realization of what I was really saying without saying anything at all.
It was so awful I found myself pondering how bad it would actually be to cut out early after being off for 2 months.
I didn't cut out early though. I stuck it out, and yes I cried in the bathroom when necessary, but I stuck it out. I got through it and it has to get easier right? It can only get easier as word of mouth spreads right? I thought I hated the sad eyes that I get when I walk into a room full of people who know. But having to explain it repeatedly all day, over and over was brutal. I wish I had the words to tell people when they don't know. I wish I didn't have to end up telling them "It's alright" when it's anything but alright. I wish I could stay in my little solitary bubble and not have to face the real world yet. Because today taught me that even though I feel like I've come a long way in the last two months, all it takes is one innocent question and I am firmly back at square one. I'm not ready for real life yet. It's just too much too soon.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Return to Zero
Have you seen the movie Return to Zero? Probably not because it's depressing as Hell (even more so than this blog) but it's fantastic. It's about a couple dealing with a stillbirth and it blew my mind. First of all, I probably should not have watched it at this point in my grieving process and I am probably dehydrated from all the crying. But it touched me and now I am watching it over and over...and over and over. Obsessive? Yes, absolutely. But I'm also healing and this helps.
I don't want to ruin the movie for anyone that might be interested in seeing it, but there are a few parts that made me want to jump up and shout "Get out of my head Minnie Driver!" Yeah, this might be a good time to mention that Minnie Driver stars in the movie. She plays the wife/mother and I have no idea who plays the husband because I didn't recognize him and his character is so different from B that his role didn't stand out to me at all.
The first scene that really captured me was when Minnie's character Maggie wakes up at home after the birth. Her bra is soaked through. See, that's the part that no one thinks about when you lose a child at birth. You not only have to deal with the heartache, but you have to deal with the physical ramifications of giving birth. Personally, I had recover from a C-section. But also, your hormones are going crazy and your milk comes in. I couldn't go home and lift C up and give him the biggest hug because I couldn't lift "anything heavier than a baby."
Then came the scene that made me want to stand up and cheer. Minnie went to her best friend's baby shower. Right after she walks in she sees some women that she knows and they ignore her. She mutters "That's right, walk away, I might be contagious." Her mother replies "It's hard for people, they don't know what to say." Minnie snaps back "I'm sure it's very hard for them" in her best sarcastic voice possible. A great scene. But the best was yet to come at that same party. A well meaning woman walks up to Minnie and starts talking to her about God's Perfect Plan and how loss of her baby was hard to understand but it was all part of God's plan. This is where Minnie loses her shit and says exactly what has been running thru my head for weeks now. "So God's perfect plan" she starts in "is to give me a grief so hard, so deep, that I would lose my faith in Him. That's God's perfect plan." Best line EVER in a movie. Seriously. And it's hard because you know, you just know that everyone that says something like "It's God's will" or "She's in a better place" or "It's all part of God's plan" is saying from their hearts. They are truly trying to be comforting and to ease the pain. But it really doesn't. It really, really only makes it worse. I've gone from being a spiritual believer to cursing God since the loss of H. And that loss of faith a whole other thing to grieve.
The scene that gave me chills and made me cry for at least an hour (yeah, it took me awhile to watch this movie) was the birth scene itself. Actually it was more of the aftermath. The looks on the faces of Minnie and her husband captured perfectly how I felt. The shock, the disbelief, the ohmygodthiscannotbehappening *sob* pleasetellmethisisnothappening *sob* ohmygodohmygodohmygod! It was so real to me, it took me back to the at hospital room instantly. To the shock. To holding my little girl and knowing that shortly I would have to put her down forever and I would never be able to hold her or kiss her again. To look at that tiny face and know I'd never be able to look into her eyes. To knowing that it wasn't really sinking in because the whole thing felt like a terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.
But before I make this movie sound like a highway to depression, there were also some uplifting scenes. Honestly I am not ready to feel that message yet so none of that really hit home. But there was one thing that I really loved. At the baby's funeral service everyone was offered the chance to say something about the baby. Minnie's best friend spoke up and said something that actually eased my heart a bit. She said that all that baby ever knew was love. That the baby was loved the whole time his mother was carrying him. And he never knew anger, and he never knew pain. All he knew was his parents love.
My H never knew anything but love. She never knew anger or hunger or disappointment. She never knew heartbreak or betrayal or pain. But she knew love. She was loved from the moment that pregnancy test said positive. She was loved by so many, many people and she still is. She may not have lived long enough to take her first breath, but I loved her so much it takes mine away.
I don't want to ruin the movie for anyone that might be interested in seeing it, but there are a few parts that made me want to jump up and shout "Get out of my head Minnie Driver!" Yeah, this might be a good time to mention that Minnie Driver stars in the movie. She plays the wife/mother and I have no idea who plays the husband because I didn't recognize him and his character is so different from B that his role didn't stand out to me at all.
The first scene that really captured me was when Minnie's character Maggie wakes up at home after the birth. Her bra is soaked through. See, that's the part that no one thinks about when you lose a child at birth. You not only have to deal with the heartache, but you have to deal with the physical ramifications of giving birth. Personally, I had recover from a C-section. But also, your hormones are going crazy and your milk comes in. I couldn't go home and lift C up and give him the biggest hug because I couldn't lift "anything heavier than a baby."
Then came the scene that made me want to stand up and cheer. Minnie went to her best friend's baby shower. Right after she walks in she sees some women that she knows and they ignore her. She mutters "That's right, walk away, I might be contagious." Her mother replies "It's hard for people, they don't know what to say." Minnie snaps back "I'm sure it's very hard for them" in her best sarcastic voice possible. A great scene. But the best was yet to come at that same party. A well meaning woman walks up to Minnie and starts talking to her about God's Perfect Plan and how loss of her baby was hard to understand but it was all part of God's plan. This is where Minnie loses her shit and says exactly what has been running thru my head for weeks now. "So God's perfect plan" she starts in "is to give me a grief so hard, so deep, that I would lose my faith in Him. That's God's perfect plan." Best line EVER in a movie. Seriously. And it's hard because you know, you just know that everyone that says something like "It's God's will" or "She's in a better place" or "It's all part of God's plan" is saying from their hearts. They are truly trying to be comforting and to ease the pain. But it really doesn't. It really, really only makes it worse. I've gone from being a spiritual believer to cursing God since the loss of H. And that loss of faith a whole other thing to grieve.
The scene that gave me chills and made me cry for at least an hour (yeah, it took me awhile to watch this movie) was the birth scene itself. Actually it was more of the aftermath. The looks on the faces of Minnie and her husband captured perfectly how I felt. The shock, the disbelief, the ohmygodthiscannotbehappening *sob* pleasetellmethisisnothappening *sob* ohmygodohmygodohmygod! It was so real to me, it took me back to the at hospital room instantly. To the shock. To holding my little girl and knowing that shortly I would have to put her down forever and I would never be able to hold her or kiss her again. To look at that tiny face and know I'd never be able to look into her eyes. To knowing that it wasn't really sinking in because the whole thing felt like a terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.
But before I make this movie sound like a highway to depression, there were also some uplifting scenes. Honestly I am not ready to feel that message yet so none of that really hit home. But there was one thing that I really loved. At the baby's funeral service everyone was offered the chance to say something about the baby. Minnie's best friend spoke up and said something that actually eased my heart a bit. She said that all that baby ever knew was love. That the baby was loved the whole time his mother was carrying him. And he never knew anger, and he never knew pain. All he knew was his parents love.
My H never knew anything but love. She never knew anger or hunger or disappointment. She never knew heartbreak or betrayal or pain. But she knew love. She was loved from the moment that pregnancy test said positive. She was loved by so many, many people and she still is. She may not have lived long enough to take her first breath, but I loved her so much it takes mine away.
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