So I took my Landon Bear along with a photo of Landon to the mall, and I got a pic with Santa...
Santa was saddened by Landon's story. He asked my first and last name and he said he'll be praying for us. I was touched.
Then I started thinking, I have a lot of random people praying for us, and God keeps on saying no... well, how can God say no now, I even got Santa on my side...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
How can I know?
Ever come to a realization that you are probably not doing as well as you think you are? I think I have.
I used to be a very stable person. I used to be a very smart and rational person. I feel guilty when I do things even a little wrong, so I try hard to always do the right thing. I used to be a very logical person.
Is that the person who died? Part of me is gone forever, I know that. I can never be the same person I was before Landon died, it's just not possible.
I'm not sure I really like the new me. I don't feel very stable. My mind is all over the place. I'm happy, yet I'm sad. I'm rational, yet I'm crazy. I'm up, yet I'm down. I know, yet I have no clue. I can't think clearly. I can't find my words. I have no idea what I want to say. I feel stupid. I don't care about anything. I don't care about any consequences. I can't tell left from right, and I can't tell up from down. Really, it's hard to describe, but I just can't. I'm not stable, I can feel it. Well, sometimes I am, and when that person is here, it's all just too much. She asks 'what the hell did I do this for' and 'why the hell did I do that'. Sometimes, I'll realize that I have no idea what happened throughout the day. I'll be at work and not only can I not remember the drive to work, I can't remember getting ready for work, hell, I can't even remember getting up that morning. And I have no idea what part of my shift I'm on until I look at the clock. I'll do the same thing at home. I'll find myself sitting on the couch and I have no idea if it's morning, noon, or evening. I don't remember the day.
Not remembering is super scary for the rational side of me. If I can't remember the day, how can I be making rational decisions throughout it?
I'm not in a good place, and I know that. The "normal" part of me would never do anything stupid and would never even worry about it. The new me sees death in everything. I see a tree as something to wrap my vehicle around. I see a freeway ramp as something to drive off at high speed. I see medicine as something to swallow all at the same time. I see sharp objects as something to stab myself with. Now I know I would never do anything like that, but if I can't remember my day, how can I know?
I want to believe that there is a purpose for everything. I want to believe that I will have another baby. I want to believe that I will be happy again. I want to believe that I will be normal again. I want to, I really do, but how can I know?
I used to be a very stable person. I used to be a very smart and rational person. I feel guilty when I do things even a little wrong, so I try hard to always do the right thing. I used to be a very logical person.
Is that the person who died? Part of me is gone forever, I know that. I can never be the same person I was before Landon died, it's just not possible.
I'm not sure I really like the new me. I don't feel very stable. My mind is all over the place. I'm happy, yet I'm sad. I'm rational, yet I'm crazy. I'm up, yet I'm down. I know, yet I have no clue. I can't think clearly. I can't find my words. I have no idea what I want to say. I feel stupid. I don't care about anything. I don't care about any consequences. I can't tell left from right, and I can't tell up from down. Really, it's hard to describe, but I just can't. I'm not stable, I can feel it. Well, sometimes I am, and when that person is here, it's all just too much. She asks 'what the hell did I do this for' and 'why the hell did I do that'. Sometimes, I'll realize that I have no idea what happened throughout the day. I'll be at work and not only can I not remember the drive to work, I can't remember getting ready for work, hell, I can't even remember getting up that morning. And I have no idea what part of my shift I'm on until I look at the clock. I'll do the same thing at home. I'll find myself sitting on the couch and I have no idea if it's morning, noon, or evening. I don't remember the day.
Not remembering is super scary for the rational side of me. If I can't remember the day, how can I be making rational decisions throughout it?
I'm not in a good place, and I know that. The "normal" part of me would never do anything stupid and would never even worry about it. The new me sees death in everything. I see a tree as something to wrap my vehicle around. I see a freeway ramp as something to drive off at high speed. I see medicine as something to swallow all at the same time. I see sharp objects as something to stab myself with. Now I know I would never do anything like that, but if I can't remember my day, how can I know?
I want to believe that there is a purpose for everything. I want to believe that I will have another baby. I want to believe that I will be happy again. I want to believe that I will be normal again. I want to, I really do, but how can I know?
Friday, December 10, 2010
I'd give anything.
I wish parents would take a step back and try for just one second to put themselves in my shoes, try for one second to imagine that your sweet precious children died the day they were born... they never cried, they never kicked, they never took one single breath... you never got to bring them home, you never got to see their first smile, you never got to see their first step, you never got to take a picture of their first day at school. For just one second, try to imagine the pain you'd be in, try to imagine the heartache, try to imagine having to force yourself to get out of bed every single day because you have nothing to get out of bed for.
I'm gonna try to say this quick and without trying to offend anyone, this is what's weighing on my mind...
Let me just say that I do not have a problem talking about kids. I like kids, I always have and I hope I always will. I don't have a problem with other people talking about their kids, I like talking about my baby - just, no one ever wants to hear about him...
Now, what I do have a problem with is being in a conversation with people where a parent is complaining about any common everyday occurrence of parenthood, such as...
...complaining about wiping noses
...complaining about stinky diapers
...complaining about buying anything (diapers, formula, toys, anything)
...complaining about a crying baby or a baby who cries too much
I just want to go on record saying that I'd give anything to be wiping my baby's nose for the next 18 years...
I'd give anything to be changing my baby's stinky diapers...
I'd give anything to have a reason to buy diapers and formula...
and I'd give anything to have a baby who cries too much...
I'd give anything...
I'm gonna try to say this quick and without trying to offend anyone, this is what's weighing on my mind...
Let me just say that I do not have a problem talking about kids. I like kids, I always have and I hope I always will. I don't have a problem with other people talking about their kids, I like talking about my baby - just, no one ever wants to hear about him...
Now, what I do have a problem with is being in a conversation with people where a parent is complaining about any common everyday occurrence of parenthood, such as...
...complaining about wiping noses
...complaining about stinky diapers
...complaining about buying anything (diapers, formula, toys, anything)
...complaining about a crying baby or a baby who cries too much
I just want to go on record saying that I'd give anything to be wiping my baby's nose for the next 18 years...
I'd give anything to be changing my baby's stinky diapers...
I'd give anything to have a reason to buy diapers and formula...
and I'd give anything to have a baby who cries too much...
I'd give anything...
Monday, December 6, 2010
a full stocking...
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
I hate holidays...
I used to be the one who went all out - tree and lights, decorated walls, a winter village under the tree complete with the working train around the village. I even have two entire sets of Christmas decorations - one in blue and white complete with a white tree and blue and white lights and all blue and white decorations, blue and white bulbs, blue and white tinsel, blue and white bells, blue and white everything. The other with a green tree and all red and gold decorations, red and gold bulbs, red and white lights, red and gold tinsel, red and gold everything. Two whole sets for whatever my mood.
Too bad I don't have a black set...
I'm so tired of Christmas crap already. I'm tired of seeing Christmas decorations in people's houses, I'm tired of Christmas lights, I'm tired of it all.
Christmas tree + Christmas decorations + Christmas lights = waste of time, waste of money, waste of electricity.
I don't feel like celebrating anything. I really just feel like crawling in a hole and staying there forever.
I don't want to do anything. I don't want to see anything. I wish I could go to sleep forever, I hate holidays...
Too bad I don't have a black set...
I'm so tired of Christmas crap already. I'm tired of seeing Christmas decorations in people's houses, I'm tired of Christmas lights, I'm tired of it all.
Christmas tree + Christmas decorations + Christmas lights = waste of time, waste of money, waste of electricity.
I don't feel like celebrating anything. I really just feel like crawling in a hole and staying there forever.
I don't want to do anything. I don't want to see anything. I wish I could go to sleep forever, I hate holidays...
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Angel's Memories...
When someone does something for you, something that they didn't have to do, it's so much sweeter... but sometimes, it's nice to do it for yourself as well.
There are so many angel mommies, way too many. When another angel mommy makes a picture of Landon's name... it warms my heart in a way I just can't explain. I can do a thousand different pictures of Landon's name, but it's nice to have them from other mom's with other ideas as well. Thank you Tamberly for the pic above.
I remember the first time I saw Landon's name written in the sand... Another angel mom was tagged in a pic of their baby's name in the sand and I commented and asked if someone would be willing to do Landon's name in the sand for me. Within hours, Stacy tagged me in a pic - she wrote Landon's name in the sand in Guam... how special was that!! Stacy's picture is below...
Since that picture, I've had several other angel mom's write Landon's name in the sand on other beaches, and while you would think that one name in the sand would be the same as any other name in the sand - you'd be wrong - they're all a little different, all a little special, all in a different part of the world, all in different writing, all beautifully spectacular in their own way, and all for my baby.
Thank you Cherie for the pic above.
Thank you Tamberly for the pic above.
Today I saw the Pacific for the first time in my life, and the only thing I wanted to do there was write my baby's name in the sand for myself and have a beautiful picture... I wish I could have done every angel I know, but I didn't think about it before I left home, and I didn't have my angel list with me, so even if I tried, I'm sure I would have missed someone and then I would have felt horrible.
But, I got some beautiful pictures of my baby's name in the sand, my favorite is just above, and I am so happy. Today was a great day for me - not only did I get to write my own baby's name in the sand, I got to meet 3 other angel mom's... I can't even begin to describe how that made me feel. To meet other women who have been through the same devestating experience as you... women who look at you for you rather than looking at you for what you've gone through... women who don't have "that look" when they talk to you... women just like you... it's unbelievable.
Last night I saw a very tiny rainbow... (it's in the center of the picture and believe me, it's small)
there was no rain, in fact, I'm visiting my brother, in the desert, and in that evening sky, I saw that rainbow and I knew it was just for me. I know that was Landon telling me that everything is going to be ok. Today, I met other angel mommies. Today I wrote Landon's name in the sand. Today I feel good. It's strange, I feel... dare I say... peaceful? I don't know, I have a strange calm. I'm thankful for that. I know my Landon sent me that rainbow yesterday, and I'm thankful for that, and I know he was at the ocean with me today, I felt him there, my baby visited the ocean today and together, we made angel memories...
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
hope...
I miss my baby, I miss him every single day... but I'm ok because I am going to have a baby, I am hopeful... hope is something that I haven't had in quite some time and I'm a little surprised at how nice it feels.
Hope.
One little word that can make everything ok.
I finally have hope...
Hope.
One little word that can make everything ok.
I finally have hope...
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
A video in memory of Landon
A dear angel mommy friend made this for me... I love it, thank you Meg.
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=125563194156971&ref=mf
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=125563194156971&ref=mf
Monday, August 16, 2010
and other ramblings...
and here's a few mind-ramblings from sleepless nights past... feel free to repost anything I've written if you feel it relevant to your situation, just please include "by Torie Rodgers for sweet angel Landon Paul Rodgers 3.26.10"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You brought me such joy,
Followed by sorrow.
Little baby, I never imagined,
There would be no tomorrow...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When the day is done and darkness falls,
That's when I feel alone,
I close my eyes and I see your face,
And I wish I could bring you home.
If I could just see your smile,
If I could just give you a kiss,
To have you forever here with me,
That, my child, is my wish.
But I close my eyes to see your face,
And I close my eyes, it's true,
And a single tear falls down my cheek,
And another morn comes, as I miss you.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When our children die before us
everything turns dark and grey
and all of those around us
have all the wrong things to say
when our world seems so empty
and we feel completely lost
we think of our sins and wonder
did we pay the ultimate cost
babies don't die before us
i must have done great wrong
somehow it must be my fault
because my sweet baby is gone
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
can't hold you
can't rock you
can't kiss your sweet cheeks
can't tickle you
can't giggle with you
can't play with your feet
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The greatest loss a mom can know,
Far worse than any before,
The death of her baby, her heart, her soul.
Holding his body while his warmth grows cold...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You brought me such joy,
Followed by sorrow.
Little baby, I never imagined,
There would be no tomorrow...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When the day is done and darkness falls,
That's when I feel alone,
I close my eyes and I see your face,
And I wish I could bring you home.
If I could just see your smile,
If I could just give you a kiss,
To have you forever here with me,
That, my child, is my wish.
But I close my eyes to see your face,
And I close my eyes, it's true,
And a single tear falls down my cheek,
And another morn comes, as I miss you.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When our children die before us
everything turns dark and grey
and all of those around us
have all the wrong things to say
when our world seems so empty
and we feel completely lost
we think of our sins and wonder
did we pay the ultimate cost
babies don't die before us
i must have done great wrong
somehow it must be my fault
because my sweet baby is gone
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
can't hold you
can't rock you
can't kiss your sweet cheeks
can't tickle you
can't giggle with you
can't play with your feet
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The greatest loss a mom can know,
Far worse than any before,
The death of her baby, her heart, her soul.
Holding his body while his warmth grows cold...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
night and why me...
Night-time ramblings from my mind... it just doesn't shut off at night, and night-time is always the worst...
rough
and tough
and hurts
like hell
screaming
hollering
want to
yell
hit
punch
and throw
something
pain
sorrow
so much
hurting
thinking
spinning
it hurts
my head
dark
alone
my baby
is dead
it's not real
but it is
i swear
i can't see
it makes
no sense
don't understand
why me...
rough
and tough
and hurts
like hell
screaming
hollering
want to
yell
hit
punch
and throw
something
pain
sorrow
so much
hurting
thinking
spinning
it hurts
my head
dark
alone
my baby
is dead
it's not real
but it is
i swear
i can't see
it makes
no sense
don't understand
why me...
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Roll my eyes...
I've been having a rough time lately. I'm trying really hard to turn it around. Here is a story about that.
Having gone through two miscarriages and a full-term stillbirth and infertility, I have had my (un)fair share of resentment towards life, in particular, pregnant woman and small babies. It it not my fault that I feel resentment, but in the last couple of days, I have come to realize that it is not theirs either. I would never have chosen to have 3 pregnancy losses, but who would. I truly believe that it is very normal with these types of loses to see a pregnant woman and instantly frown or roll my eyes or huff or shake my head or whatever other initial reaction I have. I also believe it is very normal to see small babies and be sad, because they are what I ultimately want and I can't seem to have. BUT who am I to feel resentment towards these women? They did not ask for me to have problems. AND who is to say that they have not been through problems themselves? I don't know. It's not like I walk up to one of the 50 billion pregnant woman in the mall and say "excuse me, have you experienced any pregnancy loss or infertility by chance, because then I'd like to say congratulations, otherwise I'd like to say, b!tch." No, I don't do that and I can't do that, it's none of my business.
Three days ago, I decided I would no longer allow myself these "unfortunate" initial reactions. Instead, when I see a pregnant woman, I will be happy for her, I will be happy that she is getting a chance to experience the most wonderful thing, I will be happy for her that she has what I want. And when I see a little baby, I will look at that baby and I will smile, I will imagine what my Landon would have looked like at that age, I will be happy for that mother that she did not experience the horrific loss of her baby just hours before he was born, I will be happy that she has her precious bundle of joy, I will be happy for her.
Then I went to work.
I saw 50 million pregnant woman in cute maternity swimsuits and I rolled my eyes 50 million times. I saw 50 million little kids in cute little sun hats and life jackets and I rolled my eyes 50 million times. And I went home and I remembered that I wasn't going to do that and I felt bad, took some pills and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning and reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little ones. Then I went to work, and I saw 20 million pregnant woman and I rolled my eyes 20 million times. And I saw 20 million little ones and I rolled my eyes another 20 million times. And I went home and I remembered that I wasn't going to do that and again, I felt bad, took some pills and went to sleep.
I woke up yesterday morning and I reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little babies. Then I got ready for the day and went in the kitchen and picked up the mail. I open a junk mail flyer and saw a bare pregnant belly and I rolled my eyes. I put the flyer down and reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little babies, and I picked up the flyer again and I turned to the pregnant belly and I touched it and I smiled.
I had an appointment yesterday with the OB. While waiting for an ultrasound for a follicle check, I was sitting in the lobby and looked at my watch and figured I'd be called back in the next couple of minutes, and I looked around that lobby and was relieved that there were absolutely no pregnant women in there and no women with small babies, thank goodness. I heard my name, but it was the woman behind the counter, so I walked up there. She told me it was my turn for the ultrasound, but there was an emergency in the back and would I mind waiting while another woman went in for an ultrasound... all I could think of was that a woman back there was in for a routine prenatal check up and they couldn't hear the heartbeat... of course I didn't mind waiting, I prayed for the "emergency patient" and sat back down in the now crowded lobby, next to a very pregnant woman, and I rolled my eyes. I reminded myself that I was to be happy and smile, be happy and smile, be happy and smile... I looked at her belly and smiled, then turned back to the floor fast. Good. I did it. Now if I can just get through the next few minutes, I'll be all set. Then a woman comes in with a car seat draped over her arm, she signs in and sits all the way across the lobby from me. I can't help but stare at her car seat, hoping for a glimpse of the baby, then she pushes the handle back and picks up a little baby wearing only a diaper, a tiny baby... about 4 and a half months old... same as Landon would be. I just stared and smiled. I couldn't take my eyes off that baby. I knew she was the same age as Landon would be, I just knew it. I literally couldn't stop staring, and I noticed she was looking at me. So, I got up and went and sat in the empty chair next to her and asked how old her baby was... 4 months. I asked when she was born, she said March 21... only 5 days before Landon, wow. I told her about Landon, and she told me she was really sorry and that she had gotten pregnant in June but miscarried last week and had a D&C. Then she asked if I wanted to hold her baby. Oh yes, I did! I held that happy baby and played with her while talking to her mom and I just imagined Landon, and how happy he would be and I smiled. It was awesome.
Usually, I would have just rolled my eyes and whatever else and waited impatiently for my name to be called, but I wanted to change those harsh feelings - however normal I feel they are, I also feel it normal to want to change them. I've had them long enough. I'm glad that I want to change them. Obviously, it won't happen over night, but it just might happen for real, and that makes me smile.
Had I just sat there and rolled my eyes, I would not have gotten to talk to her about Landon and about her lost baby, and I would not have gotten to hold that precious baby who is the same age as my precious angel, and I would not have gotten to experience that joy. I would have sat there in bitterness, and I would have went home and felt bad, and I would have took some pills and went to sleep.
I'm glad I got to hold a baby the same age as Landon, I really feel like Landon was there, I'm so glad I didn't just look away and roll my eyes...
Having gone through two miscarriages and a full-term stillbirth and infertility, I have had my (un)fair share of resentment towards life, in particular, pregnant woman and small babies. It it not my fault that I feel resentment, but in the last couple of days, I have come to realize that it is not theirs either. I would never have chosen to have 3 pregnancy losses, but who would. I truly believe that it is very normal with these types of loses to see a pregnant woman and instantly frown or roll my eyes or huff or shake my head or whatever other initial reaction I have. I also believe it is very normal to see small babies and be sad, because they are what I ultimately want and I can't seem to have. BUT who am I to feel resentment towards these women? They did not ask for me to have problems. AND who is to say that they have not been through problems themselves? I don't know. It's not like I walk up to one of the 50 billion pregnant woman in the mall and say "excuse me, have you experienced any pregnancy loss or infertility by chance, because then I'd like to say congratulations, otherwise I'd like to say, b!tch." No, I don't do that and I can't do that, it's none of my business.
Three days ago, I decided I would no longer allow myself these "unfortunate" initial reactions. Instead, when I see a pregnant woman, I will be happy for her, I will be happy that she is getting a chance to experience the most wonderful thing, I will be happy for her that she has what I want. And when I see a little baby, I will look at that baby and I will smile, I will imagine what my Landon would have looked like at that age, I will be happy for that mother that she did not experience the horrific loss of her baby just hours before he was born, I will be happy that she has her precious bundle of joy, I will be happy for her.
Then I went to work.
I saw 50 million pregnant woman in cute maternity swimsuits and I rolled my eyes 50 million times. I saw 50 million little kids in cute little sun hats and life jackets and I rolled my eyes 50 million times. And I went home and I remembered that I wasn't going to do that and I felt bad, took some pills and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning and reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little ones. Then I went to work, and I saw 20 million pregnant woman and I rolled my eyes 20 million times. And I saw 20 million little ones and I rolled my eyes another 20 million times. And I went home and I remembered that I wasn't going to do that and again, I felt bad, took some pills and went to sleep.
I woke up yesterday morning and I reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little babies. Then I got ready for the day and went in the kitchen and picked up the mail. I open a junk mail flyer and saw a bare pregnant belly and I rolled my eyes. I put the flyer down and reminded myself that I would be happy for pregnant women and I would smile when I saw little babies, and I picked up the flyer again and I turned to the pregnant belly and I touched it and I smiled.
I had an appointment yesterday with the OB. While waiting for an ultrasound for a follicle check, I was sitting in the lobby and looked at my watch and figured I'd be called back in the next couple of minutes, and I looked around that lobby and was relieved that there were absolutely no pregnant women in there and no women with small babies, thank goodness. I heard my name, but it was the woman behind the counter, so I walked up there. She told me it was my turn for the ultrasound, but there was an emergency in the back and would I mind waiting while another woman went in for an ultrasound... all I could think of was that a woman back there was in for a routine prenatal check up and they couldn't hear the heartbeat... of course I didn't mind waiting, I prayed for the "emergency patient" and sat back down in the now crowded lobby, next to a very pregnant woman, and I rolled my eyes. I reminded myself that I was to be happy and smile, be happy and smile, be happy and smile... I looked at her belly and smiled, then turned back to the floor fast. Good. I did it. Now if I can just get through the next few minutes, I'll be all set. Then a woman comes in with a car seat draped over her arm, she signs in and sits all the way across the lobby from me. I can't help but stare at her car seat, hoping for a glimpse of the baby, then she pushes the handle back and picks up a little baby wearing only a diaper, a tiny baby... about 4 and a half months old... same as Landon would be. I just stared and smiled. I couldn't take my eyes off that baby. I knew she was the same age as Landon would be, I just knew it. I literally couldn't stop staring, and I noticed she was looking at me. So, I got up and went and sat in the empty chair next to her and asked how old her baby was... 4 months. I asked when she was born, she said March 21... only 5 days before Landon, wow. I told her about Landon, and she told me she was really sorry and that she had gotten pregnant in June but miscarried last week and had a D&C. Then she asked if I wanted to hold her baby. Oh yes, I did! I held that happy baby and played with her while talking to her mom and I just imagined Landon, and how happy he would be and I smiled. It was awesome.
Usually, I would have just rolled my eyes and whatever else and waited impatiently for my name to be called, but I wanted to change those harsh feelings - however normal I feel they are, I also feel it normal to want to change them. I've had them long enough. I'm glad that I want to change them. Obviously, it won't happen over night, but it just might happen for real, and that makes me smile.
Had I just sat there and rolled my eyes, I would not have gotten to talk to her about Landon and about her lost baby, and I would not have gotten to hold that precious baby who is the same age as my precious angel, and I would not have gotten to experience that joy. I would have sat there in bitterness, and I would have went home and felt bad, and I would have took some pills and went to sleep.
I'm glad I got to hold a baby the same age as Landon, I really feel like Landon was there, I'm so glad I didn't just look away and roll my eyes...
Thursday, July 15, 2010
and now, it's by choice...
I have recently realized that I've been walking around in a daze, like there was a fog all around - I knew where to go and what to do, so I was going and I was doing, but I couldn't see past anything.
The death of my baby. That's what put me in the haze. I continued to function, but I wasn't there... I wasn't anywhere. How can I be somewhere when I'm not me anymore.
I used to love people - I loved working with the public - I loved being around people, watching them, interacting with them, not standing out, but fitting in the flow... I loved it.
Now... I can't stand people. I hate being around people. I only seek the company of my husband - anyone else, honestly, I could take em or leave em - it wouldn't matter. I hate going out. I hate seeing people, I don't watch them, I don't interact with them, and I stand out. The fog I was in has lifted and I can see that I stand out - I can't fit in the flow - I don't know how anymore. I really don't want to do anything. I just want to be. I don't want to answer my phone because I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to go anywhere because I don't want to see anyone - I would be happy if I could just sit in my house forever and never leave again.
I dyed my light brown hair black and my blonde bangs blue in an effort to make people avoid me. I don't want to talk to people. I don't want to smile or nod in passing. I look at the floor so I don't have to see anyone.
The past couple weeks have opened my eyes. The fog lifted and I realized that I was not doing ok - I realized that I was simply functioning.
I wish I could have the fog back. I wish I could still feel like I was doing ok. I wish the fog hadn't lifted. I wish I didn't know that I don't fit in.
For now, I must choose to remain in the fog. I am choosing not to cope. I am choosing not to deal. Because dealing and coping means I will hurt, and I don't want to hurt. It's not fair and I don't want it, so I am choosing not to have it. In the past few days, I have found that if I choose to simply function, that's what happens - I don't think about things, I just do things. This works for me, for now.
I'm just not ready for anything else - I just want my baby back. I just want to be a mommy. I just want my baby.
I asked for a baby, I didn't ask for him to die. I thought I was ok I didn't ask for the fog, but I'm in it again, and now, it's by choice...
The death of my baby. That's what put me in the haze. I continued to function, but I wasn't there... I wasn't anywhere. How can I be somewhere when I'm not me anymore.
I used to love people - I loved working with the public - I loved being around people, watching them, interacting with them, not standing out, but fitting in the flow... I loved it.
Now... I can't stand people. I hate being around people. I only seek the company of my husband - anyone else, honestly, I could take em or leave em - it wouldn't matter. I hate going out. I hate seeing people, I don't watch them, I don't interact with them, and I stand out. The fog I was in has lifted and I can see that I stand out - I can't fit in the flow - I don't know how anymore. I really don't want to do anything. I just want to be. I don't want to answer my phone because I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to go anywhere because I don't want to see anyone - I would be happy if I could just sit in my house forever and never leave again.
I dyed my light brown hair black and my blonde bangs blue in an effort to make people avoid me. I don't want to talk to people. I don't want to smile or nod in passing. I look at the floor so I don't have to see anyone.
The past couple weeks have opened my eyes. The fog lifted and I realized that I was not doing ok - I realized that I was simply functioning.
I wish I could have the fog back. I wish I could still feel like I was doing ok. I wish the fog hadn't lifted. I wish I didn't know that I don't fit in.
For now, I must choose to remain in the fog. I am choosing not to cope. I am choosing not to deal. Because dealing and coping means I will hurt, and I don't want to hurt. It's not fair and I don't want it, so I am choosing not to have it. In the past few days, I have found that if I choose to simply function, that's what happens - I don't think about things, I just do things. This works for me, for now.
I'm just not ready for anything else - I just want my baby back. I just want to be a mommy. I just want my baby.
I asked for a baby, I didn't ask for him to die. I thought I was ok I didn't ask for the fog, but I'm in it again, and now, it's by choice...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
happy...
So, 3 months hit me like a brick wall. It was tough. I had a really hard time.
The last couple of days, everything is different. It's like the fog is finally lifting - thing is - I didn't realize I was in the fog. I thought I was doing ok. I though I was handling Landon's death ok. But the past few days have made me realize that I wasn't. I wasn't doing ok. I wasn't handling things. I was simply functioning, going through the motions.
Strange thing is, I went to the doc today for a blood pressure check. My blood pressure did not regulate itself after giving birth - NORMALLY when you get preeclampsia, the symptoms dissolve within 24-48 hours after giving birth... I, however, am not normal - IMAGINE THAT!
So, after 3 months (and 4 different prescriptions), we have found a pill combo and dosage that works for me - I am on propanolol 40mg twice a day along with a water pill once a day - it is finally working! She'll keep me on this combo/dosage for the next 3 months.
I asked her about something OTC that I could take for just a little bit to help me sleep, cuz I go for weeks with very little sleep. We talked for a little bit and she told me she would rather put me on a mild antidepressant and that it would also help me sleep. SO, I officially have my first-ever happy pills... lol... that by itself makes me kinda smile - oh well! She gave me two months worth and then wants me to come back. Hopefully they'll help.
Funny thing is, I already felt like I was starting to come out of the "funk" it's like I can see now, it's different - the fog is starting to lift and I have some visibility...
I feel like I can move forward. I feel like I am ready to move forward. And that makes me happy...
The last couple of days, everything is different. It's like the fog is finally lifting - thing is - I didn't realize I was in the fog. I thought I was doing ok. I though I was handling Landon's death ok. But the past few days have made me realize that I wasn't. I wasn't doing ok. I wasn't handling things. I was simply functioning, going through the motions.
Strange thing is, I went to the doc today for a blood pressure check. My blood pressure did not regulate itself after giving birth - NORMALLY when you get preeclampsia, the symptoms dissolve within 24-48 hours after giving birth... I, however, am not normal - IMAGINE THAT!
So, after 3 months (and 4 different prescriptions), we have found a pill combo and dosage that works for me - I am on propanolol 40mg twice a day along with a water pill once a day - it is finally working! She'll keep me on this combo/dosage for the next 3 months.
I asked her about something OTC that I could take for just a little bit to help me sleep, cuz I go for weeks with very little sleep. We talked for a little bit and she told me she would rather put me on a mild antidepressant and that it would also help me sleep. SO, I officially have my first-ever happy pills... lol... that by itself makes me kinda smile - oh well! She gave me two months worth and then wants me to come back. Hopefully they'll help.
Funny thing is, I already felt like I was starting to come out of the "funk" it's like I can see now, it's different - the fog is starting to lift and I have some visibility...
I feel like I can move forward. I feel like I am ready to move forward. And that makes me happy...
Friday, July 2, 2010
so tired of waiting...
I am so tired of waiting. Like the commercial... "it's my money and I want it now" IT'S MY DREAM AND I WANT A BABY NOW!!!
Really, I am so tired of waiting - it seems like I'm always waiting... waiting for af (who barely ever shows on her own) waiting to O (which hardly happens on it's own) AND (neither of which, by the way, has happened on its own since Landon was born) And I'm stuck again, waiting.
So my doc let me start clomid this cycle, currently cd27 and counting, anyway, he let me start clomid this cycle - we do cd5-9, which I did, and the ultrasound to check follicles showed "several follicles that are too small". Great. Doc says we'll up the dosage of clomid for next cycle and if no period by cd35 (this cycle) to call him so he can get a pg test (which of course will be negative, especially if I had no mature follicles) and give me provera to get things going again. Where does that leave me... waiting. Again.
I have been waiting forever! I've been waiting for ELEVEN YEARS for my baby - it's so not fair that I want a baby so badly, and I don't have one. We came so close with Landon, so close, why did he have to die... it's so not fair. I wanted my baby, and I was finally getting one, then he died. There is nothing right about that.
I just want a baby - is that really to much to ask for. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of being disappointed. I'm tired of never winning.
I'm so tired of waiting.
Really, I am so tired of waiting - it seems like I'm always waiting... waiting for af (who barely ever shows on her own) waiting to O (which hardly happens on it's own) AND (neither of which, by the way, has happened on its own since Landon was born) And I'm stuck again, waiting.
So my doc let me start clomid this cycle, currently cd27 and counting, anyway, he let me start clomid this cycle - we do cd5-9, which I did, and the ultrasound to check follicles showed "several follicles that are too small". Great. Doc says we'll up the dosage of clomid for next cycle and if no period by cd35 (this cycle) to call him so he can get a pg test (which of course will be negative, especially if I had no mature follicles) and give me provera to get things going again. Where does that leave me... waiting. Again.
I have been waiting forever! I've been waiting for ELEVEN YEARS for my baby - it's so not fair that I want a baby so badly, and I don't have one. We came so close with Landon, so close, why did he have to die... it's so not fair. I wanted my baby, and I was finally getting one, then he died. There is nothing right about that.
I just want a baby - is that really to much to ask for. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of being disappointed. I'm tired of never winning.
I'm so tired of waiting.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
A Rough Couple of Days...
I have had a rough couple of days. Thank God I have such a wonderful husband. I needed to get away, and that's just what he did. I'm so thankful that he just got in the truck and drove with me, I needed it.
The three month mark has definitely been the toughest for me thus far. I will write about it later.
The three month mark has definitely been the toughest for me thus far. I will write about it later.
Friday, June 25, 2010
A 3 month old memory...
I used to love nighttime. It used to be the best part of the day. Lay down and relax. My mind would wander and images of the day would race through. And I'd eventually fall asleep reliving a silly conversation, or reliving a silly moment.
Now, I hate the nighttime, I fear it actually. I've never really been afraid of the dark, now it terrifies me. Nighttime is the worst. My husband is blessed, he is one of those people who falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, I am not. And nighttime is the worst.
Without fail, when I close my eyes, I see a bright light. It's coming from down, past my feet. My legs complete the dark tunnel to the light. I can hear lots of voices, but I have no idea what any of them are saying.
My heart is numb, my soul is numb, and I can't feel anything.
Then, all of a sudden, I feel it, I feel the urge to push and I can hear someone saying "push", so I do, then, I see it again. I see them block out the light and I see them place him on my belly. I hear my husband say "it's a boy, we have a son".
But it never changes, it always ends the same, I never hear him cry.
Every night, I will it to end differently, and every single night, it ends exactly the same way, without a sweet baby cry, but with a tear. I hate the nighttime, it never changes.
I close my eyes and I see the nurses searching for his heartbeat, but they never find it.
I close my eyes and I see the on-call OB sitting on the edge of my bed holding my hand, while the lady searches for any sign of flow in his heart, and she always looks at the OB and she always shakes her head.
I close my eyes and I always hear "I'm sorry..."
It never changes and I hate it.
I wish I was sleep deprived due to my 3 month old baby, instead, I'm sleep deprived due to a 3 month old memory...
Now, I hate the nighttime, I fear it actually. I've never really been afraid of the dark, now it terrifies me. Nighttime is the worst. My husband is blessed, he is one of those people who falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, I am not. And nighttime is the worst.
Without fail, when I close my eyes, I see a bright light. It's coming from down, past my feet. My legs complete the dark tunnel to the light. I can hear lots of voices, but I have no idea what any of them are saying.
My heart is numb, my soul is numb, and I can't feel anything.
Then, all of a sudden, I feel it, I feel the urge to push and I can hear someone saying "push", so I do, then, I see it again. I see them block out the light and I see them place him on my belly. I hear my husband say "it's a boy, we have a son".
But it never changes, it always ends the same, I never hear him cry.
Every night, I will it to end differently, and every single night, it ends exactly the same way, without a sweet baby cry, but with a tear. I hate the nighttime, it never changes.
I close my eyes and I see the nurses searching for his heartbeat, but they never find it.
I close my eyes and I see the on-call OB sitting on the edge of my bed holding my hand, while the lady searches for any sign of flow in his heart, and she always looks at the OB and she always shakes her head.
I close my eyes and I always hear "I'm sorry..."
It never changes and I hate it.
I wish I was sleep deprived due to my 3 month old baby, instead, I'm sleep deprived due to a 3 month old memory...
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
So tired of it...
I changed my hair... again. This makes 4 times in the past 3 months. I get tired of it quickly, and it's something I actually have control over - if I get tired of it... I can change it.
I'm tired of the "common phrases" people say to make me feel better. They don't make me feel better, really, they make me feel worse. How do they make me feel worse... let me tell you.
I'm tired of people saying...
..."everything happens for a reason" - really, did you really just say that to me? are you saying there is a good reason that my baby died? well, would someone please like to fill me in, cuz I'm dying to know. 'everything happens for a reason' and when I punch you in the nose, I'm sure you'll know the reason...
..."God must have needed another angel" - well, He didn't have to take my baby, there are plenty of babies out there who needed Him to save them, how about one of the babies born to a crack addict, how about one of the babies thrown in the dumpster, how about one of the babies who will endure years of child abuse, why not take one of those angels, I WANTED my baby, why my baby.
..."there must have been something wrong with the baby" - OH NO YOU DIDN'T, I KNOW you did NOT just say there must have been something wrong with my PERFECT baby... NEWSFLASH, my baby was perfectly healthy, preeclampsia killed my baby - I developed preeclampsia, I got "sick" and that's why my baby died - there was nothing wrong with him, he was perfect.
..."you're still young" - well, I'm not getting any younger, I would like to have babies who can one day give me grandchildren that I can enjoy.
..."you can always have more kids" - OH and exactly which crystal ball are you looking into? Cuz it's not like we haven't been trying - get a frickin clue!
..."when you stop trying, that's when it will happen" - seriously, again, get a frickin clue, it doesn't "just happen" for everyone, SOME people have to try, and SOME people need help from the medical community, we're not all "fertile myrtle".
..."I have a friend who tried for 40 years, and as soon as they stopped trying, they got pregnant" - thanks, I'll let you know how that works for me in 30 years, when I'm SIXTY - idiots.
..."I'm praying for you" - who you gonna pray to, the same God who took my baby from me, you gonna pray to Him, hello - what good will that do, you "prayed" for me while I was pregnant, and look how that worked out for me.
I'm just so tired of it all, I'm tired of people trying to help - just leave me alone, you trying to help just makes me have to pretend even more that I'm fine. I'm so tired of people asking me how I'm doing - HELLO, MY BABY IS DEAD how the F*CK do you think I'm doing - I'm doing horrible, and I'm tired of HAVING to say "I'm fine" so you are comfortable talking to me, and so you feel better. I'm tired of it. All of it, I'm just so tired of it.
I'm tired of the "common phrases" people say to make me feel better. They don't make me feel better, really, they make me feel worse. How do they make me feel worse... let me tell you.
I'm tired of people saying...
..."everything happens for a reason" - really, did you really just say that to me? are you saying there is a good reason that my baby died? well, would someone please like to fill me in, cuz I'm dying to know. 'everything happens for a reason' and when I punch you in the nose, I'm sure you'll know the reason...
..."God must have needed another angel" - well, He didn't have to take my baby, there are plenty of babies out there who needed Him to save them, how about one of the babies born to a crack addict, how about one of the babies thrown in the dumpster, how about one of the babies who will endure years of child abuse, why not take one of those angels, I WANTED my baby, why my baby.
..."there must have been something wrong with the baby" - OH NO YOU DIDN'T, I KNOW you did NOT just say there must have been something wrong with my PERFECT baby... NEWSFLASH, my baby was perfectly healthy, preeclampsia killed my baby - I developed preeclampsia, I got "sick" and that's why my baby died - there was nothing wrong with him, he was perfect.
..."you're still young" - well, I'm not getting any younger, I would like to have babies who can one day give me grandchildren that I can enjoy.
..."you can always have more kids" - OH and exactly which crystal ball are you looking into? Cuz it's not like we haven't been trying - get a frickin clue!
..."when you stop trying, that's when it will happen" - seriously, again, get a frickin clue, it doesn't "just happen" for everyone, SOME people have to try, and SOME people need help from the medical community, we're not all "fertile myrtle".
..."I have a friend who tried for 40 years, and as soon as they stopped trying, they got pregnant" - thanks, I'll let you know how that works for me in 30 years, when I'm SIXTY - idiots.
..."I'm praying for you" - who you gonna pray to, the same God who took my baby from me, you gonna pray to Him, hello - what good will that do, you "prayed" for me while I was pregnant, and look how that worked out for me.
I'm just so tired of it all, I'm tired of people trying to help - just leave me alone, you trying to help just makes me have to pretend even more that I'm fine. I'm so tired of people asking me how I'm doing - HELLO, MY BABY IS DEAD how the F*CK do you think I'm doing - I'm doing horrible, and I'm tired of HAVING to say "I'm fine" so you are comfortable talking to me, and so you feel better. I'm tired of it. All of it, I'm just so tired of it.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
All things are possible...
"All things are possible..." Really? Are they? I've had faith. I've prayed for strength. And now, I'm lost. I don't know whether to pray, scream, have faith, throw a tantrum, or do nothing at all. I feel like I should do something, but what? What can you do when you feel like there's nothing you can do at all.
I'm hurting. And really, I don't know what to do. I feel numb, yet desperate. To put it bluntly, more than anything, I want a baby. I have been pregnant 3 times. I had two miscarriages just shy of 10 weeks, one in 1999 and one in 2006. And, my son was stillborn at 35 weeks in 2010. I want a baby. Plain and simple, no sugar coating, no beating around the bush... I just want a baby.
Unfortunately, it's not easy for me to get pregnant. The first time was a surprise, then we tried and it took 7 years, then 3 years, I still don't have a baby, and I am not getting any younger.
I just received some news that makes me want to cry, yet I'm too numb to cry. Today, I had an ultrasound to check my follies (I have recently started clomid, again) so, today was my ultrasound to check my follies. As I thought, 50mg didn't do it. It never did it before, why would it work now, well, it didn't. Doc said "there are several follies, but they're too small" I'm generally a pretty obsessive person, but not wanting to stress myself out more than necessary, I didn't ask for specifics so I don't know how many or how small. I don't want to know. The plan is 15 days, if my period doesn't come in 15 days, I'll start provera (again) and I'll do 100mg of clomid on cd5-9, with an ultrasound around day 16.
I didn't expect it to work, so why do I feel desperate, why do I feel numb? It's what my doc found during the ultrasound. I can't remember the name... it's one of those "too long for the common brain to comprehend" medical names... but here are the basics
- this "condition" will not make it harder to get pregnant.
- I do have an increased risk of miscarriage, I have about a 50% chance of miscarriage.
- I have a huge risk for complications during pregnancy or birth.
- There is an 83% chance that my baby will not settle into the usual head down position, my baby will most likely be bottom down or feet down, small chance he/she will be transverse, but 83% chance that I'll have to have a c-section.
- There is a high risk of my waters breaking early.
- I have a 63% chance of preterm labor as early as the 25th week.
- I have a higher risk of incompetent cervix
- my baby has a huge risk of low birth weight.
- there is a high risk of my uterus rupturing if I go past 35 weeks in any pregnancy.
And I'm sure he said more, but of course, I can't remember everything.
So, in my language... I'm a person who has a hard time getting pregnant, and now, I've found out, that IF I do manage to get pregnant, I have a 50% chance of micarrying, and IF I manage to not miscarry, I'm at a very high risk of other complications. Nice. That's just what someone who wants a baby as badly as I do needs to hear.
My OB doesn't seem as concerned. He said this "condition" automatically classifies me as "high-risk", I'm thinking 'but you've already classified me as high-risk, I've had 3 losses which makes me high risk, I've had a 35 week stillbirth which makes me high-risk, and now I have this "condition" which also makes me high risk, really, how much more high risk can you get... I have 3 separate instances which in and of themselves classifies me as high-risk' so will I ever have a baby?
Instance #1 allows me early ultrasounds. I get my first ultrasound really early, just to see if there is a heartbeat, to see if the pregnancy is viable.
Instance #2 gets me visits with the perinatologist, it gets me high level ultrasounds around 20 weeks, it gets me monthly ultrasounds from 20 weeks on, it gets me biweekly visits rather than monthly as well as biweekly activity scans, it gets me an amnio at 32 weeks to check my baby's lungs, it gets me induced by 34 weeks.
Instance #3 this one gets me weekly monitoring from the beginning of the second trimester, it gets me biweekly ultrsounds until week 24, then weekly ultrasounds are likely, it gets me weekly activity scans from 20 weeks, then at least twice a week.
1 + 2 + 3 = crazy lady trying desperately to become a crazy paranoid pregnant lady. How stupid is that???
I'm terrified, really, I want nothing more than to be pregnant, I want nothing more than to have a baby, but I'm so terrified that once I finally become pregnant, that I'll lose my baby, or something else horrible will happen.
According to my doc, there is another alternative, there is a small chance that I'll get pregnant and have an uneventful and normal pregnancy, since I have carried one baby 35 weeks and delivered him naturally, it is possible. Too bad preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome killed him.
Where does all that leave me... It leaves me numb, it leaves my heart hurting, it leaves me scared, it leaves me wondering and questioning things I haven't questioned before. I received a lot of information today that I wasn't expecting. And still, I want a baby. I heard one time that when the hope for a baby outweighs the fear of losing another one, then, you know you're really ready. As much as I don't want to lose another baby, I want a baby more. I'm ready.
And so, I go forward, and I just have to believe, and hope, and pray, with all my heart, that "with Him, all things are possible..."
I'm hurting. And really, I don't know what to do. I feel numb, yet desperate. To put it bluntly, more than anything, I want a baby. I have been pregnant 3 times. I had two miscarriages just shy of 10 weeks, one in 1999 and one in 2006. And, my son was stillborn at 35 weeks in 2010. I want a baby. Plain and simple, no sugar coating, no beating around the bush... I just want a baby.
Unfortunately, it's not easy for me to get pregnant. The first time was a surprise, then we tried and it took 7 years, then 3 years, I still don't have a baby, and I am not getting any younger.
I just received some news that makes me want to cry, yet I'm too numb to cry. Today, I had an ultrasound to check my follies (I have recently started clomid, again) so, today was my ultrasound to check my follies. As I thought, 50mg didn't do it. It never did it before, why would it work now, well, it didn't. Doc said "there are several follies, but they're too small" I'm generally a pretty obsessive person, but not wanting to stress myself out more than necessary, I didn't ask for specifics so I don't know how many or how small. I don't want to know. The plan is 15 days, if my period doesn't come in 15 days, I'll start provera (again) and I'll do 100mg of clomid on cd5-9, with an ultrasound around day 16.
I didn't expect it to work, so why do I feel desperate, why do I feel numb? It's what my doc found during the ultrasound. I can't remember the name... it's one of those "too long for the common brain to comprehend" medical names... but here are the basics
- this "condition" will not make it harder to get pregnant.
- I do have an increased risk of miscarriage, I have about a 50% chance of miscarriage.
- I have a huge risk for complications during pregnancy or birth.
- There is an 83% chance that my baby will not settle into the usual head down position, my baby will most likely be bottom down or feet down, small chance he/she will be transverse, but 83% chance that I'll have to have a c-section.
- There is a high risk of my waters breaking early.
- I have a 63% chance of preterm labor as early as the 25th week.
- I have a higher risk of incompetent cervix
- my baby has a huge risk of low birth weight.
- there is a high risk of my uterus rupturing if I go past 35 weeks in any pregnancy.
And I'm sure he said more, but of course, I can't remember everything.
So, in my language... I'm a person who has a hard time getting pregnant, and now, I've found out, that IF I do manage to get pregnant, I have a 50% chance of micarrying, and IF I manage to not miscarry, I'm at a very high risk of other complications. Nice. That's just what someone who wants a baby as badly as I do needs to hear.
My OB doesn't seem as concerned. He said this "condition" automatically classifies me as "high-risk", I'm thinking 'but you've already classified me as high-risk, I've had 3 losses which makes me high risk, I've had a 35 week stillbirth which makes me high-risk, and now I have this "condition" which also makes me high risk, really, how much more high risk can you get... I have 3 separate instances which in and of themselves classifies me as high-risk' so will I ever have a baby?
Instance #1 allows me early ultrasounds. I get my first ultrasound really early, just to see if there is a heartbeat, to see if the pregnancy is viable.
Instance #2 gets me visits with the perinatologist, it gets me high level ultrasounds around 20 weeks, it gets me monthly ultrasounds from 20 weeks on, it gets me biweekly visits rather than monthly as well as biweekly activity scans, it gets me an amnio at 32 weeks to check my baby's lungs, it gets me induced by 34 weeks.
Instance #3 this one gets me weekly monitoring from the beginning of the second trimester, it gets me biweekly ultrsounds until week 24, then weekly ultrasounds are likely, it gets me weekly activity scans from 20 weeks, then at least twice a week.
1 + 2 + 3 = crazy lady trying desperately to become a crazy paranoid pregnant lady. How stupid is that???
I'm terrified, really, I want nothing more than to be pregnant, I want nothing more than to have a baby, but I'm so terrified that once I finally become pregnant, that I'll lose my baby, or something else horrible will happen.
According to my doc, there is another alternative, there is a small chance that I'll get pregnant and have an uneventful and normal pregnancy, since I have carried one baby 35 weeks and delivered him naturally, it is possible. Too bad preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome killed him.
Where does all that leave me... It leaves me numb, it leaves my heart hurting, it leaves me scared, it leaves me wondering and questioning things I haven't questioned before. I received a lot of information today that I wasn't expecting. And still, I want a baby. I heard one time that when the hope for a baby outweighs the fear of losing another one, then, you know you're really ready. As much as I don't want to lose another baby, I want a baby more. I'm ready.
And so, I go forward, and I just have to believe, and hope, and pray, with all my heart, that "with Him, all things are possible..."
Sunday, June 20, 2010
What if...
I went to a dangerous place today, if you've ever lost a child, you know the place, it's a land called "What if"...
Being Father's Day, today was tough for me. It was tough because Paul doesn't have his baby to hold. He doesn't have his baby to be a father to. And that was hard for me. It took me to that dangerous land, that land you visit from time to time, but you need to be very careful with because you can get caught there, you can get stuck there, and it can be very hard to return.
Today, I found myself in "what if" land...
What if I had known the symptoms of preeclampsia ~ would I have recognized that I had it, and would my baby had been born alive...
What if I had known about HELLP syndrome ~ would I have recognized the "rash" as a symptom, would I have placed the timing of my HUGE weight gain as well as the development of the "rash" together and thought about HELLP...
What if I had seen a different doctor, the OB on-call in the ER took one look at me and immediately tested for HELLP, he was right, what if he had been my OB ~ would my baby be alive...
What if I had a scale at home ~ would I have noticed a 6 pound weight gain in 5 days and called the doc...
What if I had went to L&D first instead of to the doc ~ I would have been hooked up to the fetal monitoring and would they have been able to save my baby...
What if I had insisted something was wrong when I went to L&D at 32 weeks, we listened to Landon's heartbeat for hours, we listened to him kicking like crazy at that fetal monitor - he hated it :) it was so funny - but they sent me home and told me if my contractions increased to 6 an hour or more to come back...
What if I had said I can't feel my tummy, how will I know if they increase ~ would they have kept me just to make sure, would they have noticed more contractions, would my baby be alive...
I now know that I had been having contractions for at least a week, but since I couldn't feel my tummy, I didn't know, and I thought it was the baby moving...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't feel my tummy...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't do proper kick counts...
...would Landon be napping with his daddy right now?
What if... It's a dangerous place, you can get lost there. There is so much sadness, so much heartbreak, so much sorrow, so many tears.
Today, on the day that was supposed to be so special for my husband, the day that was supposed to finally be his first "Happy Father's Day", today, I found myself in that land. Wishing my husband had his baby in his arms, today all I could think of, was -- What if...
Being Father's Day, today was tough for me. It was tough because Paul doesn't have his baby to hold. He doesn't have his baby to be a father to. And that was hard for me. It took me to that dangerous land, that land you visit from time to time, but you need to be very careful with because you can get caught there, you can get stuck there, and it can be very hard to return.
Today, I found myself in "what if" land...
What if I had known the symptoms of preeclampsia ~ would I have recognized that I had it, and would my baby had been born alive...
What if I had known about HELLP syndrome ~ would I have recognized the "rash" as a symptom, would I have placed the timing of my HUGE weight gain as well as the development of the "rash" together and thought about HELLP...
What if I had seen a different doctor, the OB on-call in the ER took one look at me and immediately tested for HELLP, he was right, what if he had been my OB ~ would my baby be alive...
What if I had a scale at home ~ would I have noticed a 6 pound weight gain in 5 days and called the doc...
What if I had went to L&D first instead of to the doc ~ I would have been hooked up to the fetal monitoring and would they have been able to save my baby...
What if I had insisted something was wrong when I went to L&D at 32 weeks, we listened to Landon's heartbeat for hours, we listened to him kicking like crazy at that fetal monitor - he hated it :) it was so funny - but they sent me home and told me if my contractions increased to 6 an hour or more to come back...
What if I had said I can't feel my tummy, how will I know if they increase ~ would they have kept me just to make sure, would they have noticed more contractions, would my baby be alive...
I now know that I had been having contractions for at least a week, but since I couldn't feel my tummy, I didn't know, and I thought it was the baby moving...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't feel my tummy...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't do proper kick counts...
...would Landon be napping with his daddy right now?
What if... It's a dangerous place, you can get lost there. There is so much sadness, so much heartbreak, so much sorrow, so many tears.
Today, on the day that was supposed to be so special for my husband, the day that was supposed to finally be his first "Happy Father's Day", today, I found myself in that land. Wishing my husband had his baby in his arms, today all I could think of, was -- What if...
Thursday, June 17, 2010
I tried...
He wraps his hand around my finger and smiles. He kicks his feet and wiggles his arms. I change his diaper he giggles and coos. He laughs as I tickle his belly. I button his sleeper and make funny faces and sounds as he smiles, and I try to pick him up, but I can't. I try again, and I realize it's a dream, I need to hold onto him, I need to keep him, I try desperately, desperately to bring him with me, but I can't, and I wake up. His image fades and a tear runs down my cheek as I wish I could dream forever.
Have you ever had one of those dreams where you realize you're dreaming just as you're about to wake up and you try to bring things with you, because in dream land you know what will not be there but you're dreaming, and maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you might just be able to bring it with you when you awaken. I always try to bring things back with me... money, letters, flowers, pictures... and now my baby, it never works.
Last night I had a dream about my baby. I have never tried so hard to bring something back with me, I knew I was waking up and I knew he wouldn't be here, I knew that if I could just hold him tight enough, that he would be here when I woke up. But, as dreams go when you realize you're dreaming, I couldn't pick him up. I tried, and I tried, and I tried. As I tried, his face faded, his giggle was gone, and I woke up. I woke up and I cried.
My baby is dead, and these dreams are both the best, most amazing thing I could ever ask for, and at the same time, they haunt me. I LOVE dreaming about my baby - that is the best way I can spend time with him. I love holding him. I love playing with him. I love him. But they haunt me, when I wake up and he isn't there, the pain flows strong. It's like a hurricane blowing me down. It's like a cruel joke... here's your baby, play with him, love on him, be with him ~wake up~ haha just kidding, he's still dead. Then I see him all day, and I miss him all day, and the pain is so strong.
I don't cry very much, I've learned to stop the tears from flowing... it's easier that way, and besides - everyone thinks I should "be over it" by now. My baby died 12 weeks ago. And this morning I woke up and I cried. I cried for me, because I hurt so bad. I cried until my pillow was wet, then I flipped it over and cried some more. Then I decided I wanted to see my baby again, I went back to sleep and tried go back into my dream, so I could spend some more time with Landon... it didn't happen, but I tried.
Have you ever had one of those dreams where you realize you're dreaming just as you're about to wake up and you try to bring things with you, because in dream land you know what will not be there but you're dreaming, and maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you might just be able to bring it with you when you awaken. I always try to bring things back with me... money, letters, flowers, pictures... and now my baby, it never works.
Last night I had a dream about my baby. I have never tried so hard to bring something back with me, I knew I was waking up and I knew he wouldn't be here, I knew that if I could just hold him tight enough, that he would be here when I woke up. But, as dreams go when you realize you're dreaming, I couldn't pick him up. I tried, and I tried, and I tried. As I tried, his face faded, his giggle was gone, and I woke up. I woke up and I cried.
My baby is dead, and these dreams are both the best, most amazing thing I could ever ask for, and at the same time, they haunt me. I LOVE dreaming about my baby - that is the best way I can spend time with him. I love holding him. I love playing with him. I love him. But they haunt me, when I wake up and he isn't there, the pain flows strong. It's like a hurricane blowing me down. It's like a cruel joke... here's your baby, play with him, love on him, be with him ~wake up~ haha just kidding, he's still dead. Then I see him all day, and I miss him all day, and the pain is so strong.
I don't cry very much, I've learned to stop the tears from flowing... it's easier that way, and besides - everyone thinks I should "be over it" by now. My baby died 12 weeks ago. And this morning I woke up and I cried. I cried for me, because I hurt so bad. I cried until my pillow was wet, then I flipped it over and cried some more. Then I decided I wanted to see my baby again, I went back to sleep and tried go back into my dream, so I could spend some more time with Landon... it didn't happen, but I tried.
Monday, June 14, 2010
I hate that lady...
I am a different person than I was before Landon died. I look different. I feel different. I am different. I can never go back to the person I was then, she died the day Landon died, and I am who is left.
I wonder if I will ever get used to people treating me differently.
I hate "those looks". I get them all the time, people look at me with pity - I can recognize the look from across a room... the "I pity her" look... the "I'm glad it wasn't me" look... the "that poor lady" look. And when they are up close, they look at me with their bottom lip pressed up into a pursed upper lip, corners pointed half down, head tilted down and to the right, and eyes avoiding direct contact.
I avoid the direct eye contact too - because I know that if I look into your eyes, I'll cry... I'll cry because I miss my baby. But what you don't understand, is that I miss him everyday, whether you look at me or not, I still miss him, and I always will.
I hate being "that lady". Wherever I go, I'm "that lady... the one whose baby died". I hate being her. What I wouldn't give to be "that lady... the one with the annoying kid" or "that lady... the one who is way overprotective" or "that lady... the one who is always at the park with her baby"... what I wouldn't give to be any of "those ladies".
Unfortunately, I will forever be "that lady, you know, the one whose baby died".
I hate that lady.
I wonder if I will ever get used to people treating me differently.
I hate "those looks". I get them all the time, people look at me with pity - I can recognize the look from across a room... the "I pity her" look... the "I'm glad it wasn't me" look... the "that poor lady" look. And when they are up close, they look at me with their bottom lip pressed up into a pursed upper lip, corners pointed half down, head tilted down and to the right, and eyes avoiding direct contact.
I avoid the direct eye contact too - because I know that if I look into your eyes, I'll cry... I'll cry because I miss my baby. But what you don't understand, is that I miss him everyday, whether you look at me or not, I still miss him, and I always will.
I hate being "that lady". Wherever I go, I'm "that lady... the one whose baby died". I hate being her. What I wouldn't give to be "that lady... the one with the annoying kid" or "that lady... the one who is way overprotective" or "that lady... the one who is always at the park with her baby"... what I wouldn't give to be any of "those ladies".
Unfortunately, I will forever be "that lady, you know, the one whose baby died".
I hate that lady.
Headaches...
Today is one of "those" days... I'm having a rough day. It's not easy being the mommy to an angel... you long to hear your child cry... you long to hear his voice... you long to touch his skin... you long to see his eyes...
And you have bad days.
A bad day can sneak right up on you - what you think is starting out great, can instantly turn bad. You may see his blanket. You may go into his room. You may see his bottle. On a normal day, you stop for a minute, touch the item, smile, then continue on. But on a bad day, you stop, you may get sad and cry, you may get angry, you may not be able to continue on with the day - you may get a headache, you may throw up, you may just sit crying uncontrollably.
I have a headache. I hate headaches.
And you have bad days.
A bad day can sneak right up on you - what you think is starting out great, can instantly turn bad. You may see his blanket. You may go into his room. You may see his bottle. On a normal day, you stop for a minute, touch the item, smile, then continue on. But on a bad day, you stop, you may get sad and cry, you may get angry, you may not be able to continue on with the day - you may get a headache, you may throw up, you may just sit crying uncontrollably.
I have a headache. I hate headaches.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
All the right things...
Well, this is one of those "I need to work it out" posts. And without being specific because my blog site is in my profiles so others can read if they please, I'll attempt to "work it out".
I lost my baby. That's the plan truth of it. My baby is dead and nothing I do will bring him back to me. I am left with grief. I don't know how to deal with grief - I've never had to before. I'm not one who is good at asking for help, so counseling is pretty much out. What I'm left with is the couple of online support groups I've found. I have visited several and I have two that I have chosen to frequent.
The online support groups are full of women just like me, women who have lost a baby through stillbirth. We are women from all over the world, women from all walks of life, twenty-somethings, forty-somethings, mommies who lost their babies days ago, and mommies who lost them years ago, first time mammas, and mammas with many other children, but we all stand united, we are all mommies to angels, we are there for each other. These online communities are safe-havens, we go there happy, we go there sad, we go there angry, and we go there jealous, no matter our feelings when we get there, we can be honest... the others always, and I mean always offer support. They offer a support that many of us cannot get with our "real life" friends, they send us virtual hugs, they offer guidance, they offer support, and they genuinely cry with us, we can say anything to them, they are us.
~When one of our "real life" friends announces her pregnancy, our online support network cries with us - they know we are happy for her, but they understand that this type of announcement can cut deep into our souls, it may make us feel like a failure - we are happy, sad, jealous and mad all at the same time, and they are the only ones who understand... and they say all the right things...
~When we are hurt that our husbands are acting different than we expect them to, our online network hurts with us - they know EXACTLY how we feel, they know that we love our spouses, they know that we hurt so badly for our missing babies, they know that we want our husbands to share that hurt... and when our husbands seem to heal before us, they know how we feel. They "hug" us and hurt with us... they tell us how their husband did the same thing... they tell us our husbands just didn't have the same emotional bond that we did... and they say all the right things.
~When we are having a hard time conceiving our next child, our online network cries with us and cheers us on - they know how badly we desire another child - they know our babies can never be replaced, yet they know the deep need for a child, they know we need to feel baby kicks again, they know the feeling of empty arms... and they cry with us when our period comes... and they cheer with joy when we "hit it" on all the right days... and they distract us through the long days waiting to test... they encourage us when we get a negative test... they tell us it was too early... they tell us they didn't get their positive until much later... they tell us we're not out yet... and they cry with us when our period comes again... they understand, they've been there... and they say all the right things.
The point of this blog is to help me heal. I keep things bottled up, I don't always say what's on my mind, I promised myself I would use this place to say what's on my mind...
What's on my mind today is a possible fake. I would have never imagined such a thing could exist, but they do. My eyes were opened by facebook, my eyes were opened by the fake people on facebook who join groups designed mainly for bereaved parents and did horrible things involving precious angels pictures, and they say horrible things... they say things a bereaved parent would never say.
In our online support groups, we sometimes find ourselves in common threads about "what not to say to bereaved parents" or "what not to say to someone ttc" and others like this... we laugh with each other as we read through these lists and nod... we laugh as we share stories of what people have said to us... but share the common bond, we share "secret" decency to never say the wrong thing, we never use these common phrases, especially to each other.
A possible fake. Horrifying.
There are new mommies who join our networks almost daily. We cry reading their stories as they are so dear to our own hearts, and we can literally feel the pain in their words.
I am horrified by a possible fake... and I wonder,
what could her intentions be... (why would some fake this)
why would she be here... (learning, stealing, why)
is she here to learn about us... (college student writing a paper, someone who knows someone who has been here)
is it for pity... (we hate the "pity stares" - is she just an attention getter)
is it for personal gain... (does she think people will like her more if she has lost a child, again, is she an attention getter)
I don't know... but it troubles me.
I first thought twice about her because she said the wrong thing... not to me, but to another mommy... she tried to offer advice, but she said something on the list, something we never say to each other, something we cringe hearing from "real life" friends.
Then she said the wrong thing again not in offering support, but in seeking support, she described something she had done (in an effort to heal, sort of) but it is not something we would do to heal... it is actually something we put off doing (weeks or even months go by and we still have not done this thing), or we have others do for us because we just can't (I can't do specifics, sorry), but not only was she was able to do this "thing" that most of us can't do, she did it literally within days of losing her baby, and she did it herself...
She doesn't talk about her baby like we do... her words are just words... there is no love in her words... it just feels wrong...
Maybe I'm just imagining it... maybe she's not a fake... maybe facebook has just made me paranoid... maybe she's just very strong... maybe she's superwoman...
I might me wrong about her so I feel bad for saying this, I feel bad for thinking this, but I had to get it out. This is something I would normally say to the ladies at the groups for support, but I can't because I don't want to cause chaos... so I have to think it out here... I have to say it to myself because I can't reach out to my support about this, and as much as I need them, and want to tell them, this time... they can't say all the right things.
I lost my baby. That's the plan truth of it. My baby is dead and nothing I do will bring him back to me. I am left with grief. I don't know how to deal with grief - I've never had to before. I'm not one who is good at asking for help, so counseling is pretty much out. What I'm left with is the couple of online support groups I've found. I have visited several and I have two that I have chosen to frequent.
The online support groups are full of women just like me, women who have lost a baby through stillbirth. We are women from all over the world, women from all walks of life, twenty-somethings, forty-somethings, mommies who lost their babies days ago, and mommies who lost them years ago, first time mammas, and mammas with many other children, but we all stand united, we are all mommies to angels, we are there for each other. These online communities are safe-havens, we go there happy, we go there sad, we go there angry, and we go there jealous, no matter our feelings when we get there, we can be honest... the others always, and I mean always offer support. They offer a support that many of us cannot get with our "real life" friends, they send us virtual hugs, they offer guidance, they offer support, and they genuinely cry with us, we can say anything to them, they are us.
~When one of our "real life" friends announces her pregnancy, our online support network cries with us - they know we are happy for her, but they understand that this type of announcement can cut deep into our souls, it may make us feel like a failure - we are happy, sad, jealous and mad all at the same time, and they are the only ones who understand... and they say all the right things...
~When we are hurt that our husbands are acting different than we expect them to, our online network hurts with us - they know EXACTLY how we feel, they know that we love our spouses, they know that we hurt so badly for our missing babies, they know that we want our husbands to share that hurt... and when our husbands seem to heal before us, they know how we feel. They "hug" us and hurt with us... they tell us how their husband did the same thing... they tell us our husbands just didn't have the same emotional bond that we did... and they say all the right things.
~When we are having a hard time conceiving our next child, our online network cries with us and cheers us on - they know how badly we desire another child - they know our babies can never be replaced, yet they know the deep need for a child, they know we need to feel baby kicks again, they know the feeling of empty arms... and they cry with us when our period comes... and they cheer with joy when we "hit it" on all the right days... and they distract us through the long days waiting to test... they encourage us when we get a negative test... they tell us it was too early... they tell us they didn't get their positive until much later... they tell us we're not out yet... and they cry with us when our period comes again... they understand, they've been there... and they say all the right things.
The point of this blog is to help me heal. I keep things bottled up, I don't always say what's on my mind, I promised myself I would use this place to say what's on my mind...
What's on my mind today is a possible fake. I would have never imagined such a thing could exist, but they do. My eyes were opened by facebook, my eyes were opened by the fake people on facebook who join groups designed mainly for bereaved parents and did horrible things involving precious angels pictures, and they say horrible things... they say things a bereaved parent would never say.
In our online support groups, we sometimes find ourselves in common threads about "what not to say to bereaved parents" or "what not to say to someone ttc" and others like this... we laugh with each other as we read through these lists and nod... we laugh as we share stories of what people have said to us... but share the common bond, we share "secret" decency to never say the wrong thing, we never use these common phrases, especially to each other.
A possible fake. Horrifying.
There are new mommies who join our networks almost daily. We cry reading their stories as they are so dear to our own hearts, and we can literally feel the pain in their words.
I am horrified by a possible fake... and I wonder,
what could her intentions be... (why would some fake this)
why would she be here... (learning, stealing, why)
is she here to learn about us... (college student writing a paper, someone who knows someone who has been here)
is it for pity... (we hate the "pity stares" - is she just an attention getter)
is it for personal gain... (does she think people will like her more if she has lost a child, again, is she an attention getter)
I don't know... but it troubles me.
I first thought twice about her because she said the wrong thing... not to me, but to another mommy... she tried to offer advice, but she said something on the list, something we never say to each other, something we cringe hearing from "real life" friends.
Then she said the wrong thing again not in offering support, but in seeking support, she described something she had done (in an effort to heal, sort of) but it is not something we would do to heal... it is actually something we put off doing (weeks or even months go by and we still have not done this thing), or we have others do for us because we just can't (I can't do specifics, sorry), but not only was she was able to do this "thing" that most of us can't do, she did it literally within days of losing her baby, and she did it herself...
She doesn't talk about her baby like we do... her words are just words... there is no love in her words... it just feels wrong...
Maybe I'm just imagining it... maybe she's not a fake... maybe facebook has just made me paranoid... maybe she's just very strong... maybe she's superwoman...
I might me wrong about her so I feel bad for saying this, I feel bad for thinking this, but I had to get it out. This is something I would normally say to the ladies at the groups for support, but I can't because I don't want to cause chaos... so I have to think it out here... I have to say it to myself because I can't reach out to my support about this, and as much as I need them, and want to tell them, this time... they can't say all the right things.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Serious stuff...
Pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndrome.
Serious stuff.
I wish I had known all the symptoms - I only knew about high blood pressure and protein in the urine, neither of which I had until that last day - I didn't know about the headaches, the blurred vision, the sudden weight gain... I woke up with a horrible headache and I couldn't see straight - I called in sick to work and took a nap to try to ease my headache before my doc appointment that afternoon. At my doc appointment, I learned that I had gained 6 pounds over that last 5 days... I didn't have a scale, so I didn't know. My blood pressure was extremely high, urine check... there was a significant amount of protein present, I was diagnosed with severe pre-e... my doc gave me a quick run down on pre-e, told me to expect to deliver that evening or the next day, and sent me to L&D at the hospital... by the time I got to L&D, Landon's heart had stopped, the rest of the night is a whirlwind of nurses and doctors and IV's and shots and emptiness... Landon was born still the following evening, 23 hours and 55 minutes after being induced.
"Know the symptoms. Trust yourself" Preeclampsia is serious, preeclampsia killed my baby.
Check out the website www.preeclampsia.org it could save your baby's life.
Serious stuff.
I wish I had known all the symptoms - I only knew about high blood pressure and protein in the urine, neither of which I had until that last day - I didn't know about the headaches, the blurred vision, the sudden weight gain... I woke up with a horrible headache and I couldn't see straight - I called in sick to work and took a nap to try to ease my headache before my doc appointment that afternoon. At my doc appointment, I learned that I had gained 6 pounds over that last 5 days... I didn't have a scale, so I didn't know. My blood pressure was extremely high, urine check... there was a significant amount of protein present, I was diagnosed with severe pre-e... my doc gave me a quick run down on pre-e, told me to expect to deliver that evening or the next day, and sent me to L&D at the hospital... by the time I got to L&D, Landon's heart had stopped, the rest of the night is a whirlwind of nurses and doctors and IV's and shots and emptiness... Landon was born still the following evening, 23 hours and 55 minutes after being induced.
"Know the symptoms. Trust yourself" Preeclampsia is serious, preeclampsia killed my baby.
Check out the website www.preeclampsia.org it could save your baby's life.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Funky Mouth Leg-warmers...
FML... the first time i saw these 3 letters, I pondered them for about 3 seconds, then moved on - not knowing what they meant and not really caring.
I've since learned what they mean, and I'm a bit disturbed. For others like me, who don't know, fml means f*ck my life... really! I couldn't believe either - these letters are randomly thrown everywhere... "ran out of cereal this morning, fml" "ripped a hole in my jeans, fml" "can't go to the party tonite, fml" and it goes on.
What's sad is that these people, the ones who throw around these 3 letters, they have no idea. If they say fml for these trivial things, how would they react to real life? How would they react to real pain? How would they react to real loss? It makes me sad.
So, I've decided that fml will no longer mean that... it will forever mean something else, anything else... forever my love... find my legwarmers... fix my lights... found my life... it will mean anything except f*uck my life, because no matter where you are, no matter what you are going through, no matter what has happened, your life is worth more, and I wish you could see that.
Next time you see someone post "fml" come back with "funky mouth leg-warmers" :)
I've since learned what they mean, and I'm a bit disturbed. For others like me, who don't know, fml means f*ck my life... really! I couldn't believe either - these letters are randomly thrown everywhere... "ran out of cereal this morning, fml" "ripped a hole in my jeans, fml" "can't go to the party tonite, fml" and it goes on.
What's sad is that these people, the ones who throw around these 3 letters, they have no idea. If they say fml for these trivial things, how would they react to real life? How would they react to real pain? How would they react to real loss? It makes me sad.
So, I've decided that fml will no longer mean that... it will forever mean something else, anything else... forever my love... find my legwarmers... fix my lights... found my life... it will mean anything except f*uck my life, because no matter where you are, no matter what you are going through, no matter what has happened, your life is worth more, and I wish you could see that.
Next time you see someone post "fml" come back with "funky mouth leg-warmers" :)
A picture of Landon...
Really? How am I doing...
People ask me all the time how I am doing. I often find myself wondering if they really want to know. What would be their reaction if I told them the truth... If I said 'I'm not doing well', 'my heart is broken', 'I don't think I will ever heal', 'sometimes I'm ok, but most of the time I just want to dig a hole next to my son and crawl in, forever'. What would they say? It's easier to simply say "I'm fine".
They try to make me feel better, but usually, they just say all the wrong things... "it was meant to be..." or "you'll feel better in time, I lost my mom a few years ago, and I feel better now". They say many more things, and for the most part, they just make me more sad. Do I say anything to them? No. What would that do... they have good intentions, they just don't understand. I pray that they NEVER understand.
What would I like to say... wow... honestly I wouldn't even know where to begin, and I guess that's why I always say "I'm fine".
Time doesn't heal pain, it only makes the pain easier to deal with. The loss of your child cannot be compared with anything... losing a parent, losing a grandparent, losing a sibling, losing a spouse, a family member falling ill, or anything else you try to compare it to, just makes it hurt that much worse - the laws of nature say death is normal... we are supposed to lose our grandparents... we are supposed to lose our parents... siblings will pass away... and one spouse will inevitably die before the other... those things are all natural. BUT our children are NOT supposed to die before their parents...there is nothing natural about bending before a small white casket, draped with a specially made grave blanket because the normal ones are too big, and shedding a tear while you kiss the casket of your only baby before it is lowered into the ground... there is nothing natural about that, nothing. We are not supposed to experience that, and the grief that follows is also unnatural, unlike any other.
So the next time you see me, please, before asking how I am doing, ask yourself... how would I be doing, how would I feel, what would I want someone to say to me, where would I be in my 'healing', how would I deal if I had buried my only child... really, how would I be doing.
I would like to share a poem that is circulated amongst a secret society of angel mommies... a society I wish I didn't know about... a society I never wanted to join... a society I am forever a part of...
If you know the author's name, please let me know, I would like to give credit where credit is due.
A Mother's Grief
You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go
How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see
You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart,
You start squirming in your chair.
Because I am so lonely,
you see, no one comes around,
I'll take the words I want to say
And quietly choke them down.
Everyone avoids me now,
Because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.
Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?
No one will let me
say the words I need to say
Why does a mothers grief
scare everyone away?
I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.
How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?
Maybe you can tell me,
How should one behave,
who's had to follow their child's casket,
watched it perched above a grave?
You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that box,
and have to turn and walk away.
If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.
Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."
Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's alright if you do too.
~Author Unknown
Please, the next time you are unable to avoid me, the next time you talk to me, before you try to make me feel better, just stop and think...
They try to make me feel better, but usually, they just say all the wrong things... "it was meant to be..." or "you'll feel better in time, I lost my mom a few years ago, and I feel better now". They say many more things, and for the most part, they just make me more sad. Do I say anything to them? No. What would that do... they have good intentions, they just don't understand. I pray that they NEVER understand.
What would I like to say... wow... honestly I wouldn't even know where to begin, and I guess that's why I always say "I'm fine".
Time doesn't heal pain, it only makes the pain easier to deal with. The loss of your child cannot be compared with anything... losing a parent, losing a grandparent, losing a sibling, losing a spouse, a family member falling ill, or anything else you try to compare it to, just makes it hurt that much worse - the laws of nature say death is normal... we are supposed to lose our grandparents... we are supposed to lose our parents... siblings will pass away... and one spouse will inevitably die before the other... those things are all natural. BUT our children are NOT supposed to die before their parents...there is nothing natural about bending before a small white casket, draped with a specially made grave blanket because the normal ones are too big, and shedding a tear while you kiss the casket of your only baby before it is lowered into the ground... there is nothing natural about that, nothing. We are not supposed to experience that, and the grief that follows is also unnatural, unlike any other.
So the next time you see me, please, before asking how I am doing, ask yourself... how would I be doing, how would I feel, what would I want someone to say to me, where would I be in my 'healing', how would I deal if I had buried my only child... really, how would I be doing.
I would like to share a poem that is circulated amongst a secret society of angel mommies... a society I wish I didn't know about... a society I never wanted to join... a society I am forever a part of...
If you know the author's name, please let me know, I would like to give credit where credit is due.
A Mother's Grief
You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go
How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see
You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart,
You start squirming in your chair.
Because I am so lonely,
you see, no one comes around,
I'll take the words I want to say
And quietly choke them down.
Everyone avoids me now,
Because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.
Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?
No one will let me
say the words I need to say
Why does a mothers grief
scare everyone away?
I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.
How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?
Maybe you can tell me,
How should one behave,
who's had to follow their child's casket,
watched it perched above a grave?
You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that box,
and have to turn and walk away.
If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.
Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."
Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's alright if you do too.
~Author Unknown
Please, the next time you are unable to avoid me, the next time you talk to me, before you try to make me feel better, just stop and think...
Why the blog...
When you go through an experience that others have not, they become uncomfortable. They don't now what to say. They don't know how to react. They avoid you.
As horrible as it sounds, tragedy isolates you. Not all tragedy, but mine does. I am the mother of a child that no one knows. I am a mother of a child that no one can see. I am the mother of a child that I can no longer hold. I am the mother of an angel. A special angel who was called home just before he was born.
My baby died in utero, 'fetal demise third trimester' that's what my doctor said at my appointment just days after burying my child. He said "we don't know why this can happen in a perfectly healthy pregnancy... these things just happen, I had another lady who this happened to just last week..." Were those words supposed to comfort me? Was I supposed to feel better knowing that 'I'm not the only one'? Was I supposed to be thankful that I had an "otherwise" healthy pregnancy? Really?
I left that appointment dumbfounded. My baby had died. I had just buried my only child and all I could remember him saying was "blah blah blah fetal demise". Words. That's what they are. That's all they are. Now. BUT then, it made me feel like I did something wrong, like I had in some way caused my baby's death, like it was my fault. I know that's not the case, and I know that was not my doctor's intentions, but feelings cannot always be controlled. Your initial reaction to something, the true initial reaction - your immediate thought/feeling/reaction, is not something you can control... it just happens. I control my secondary thoughts, I am responsible for what I do and what I say, as well as what I do not do and what I do not say.
I am a natural nurturer. My thoughts/feelings/actions are generally geared towards making others comfortable, and towards myself second. I have learned to keep most of my feelings to myself. I don't speak my mind. I don't cause conflict. I don't disrupt. It's just easier that way - I don't have to worry about making others uncomfortable... that's the natural nurturer in me. And unfortunately, it can cause me undue grief. The problem now is, I have true grief to deal with. I have been through a tragedy. I have lost a child. And I need to deal with it. I need to heal. But I have spent my whole life helping others... I have never learned to help myself.
This is my attempt. I have created this blog to help me heal. This is my place. Here I can 'think' things out, and work through things. I can say what I want and not have to worry about who may be offended. And I will. I promise myself that. I will use this place for me.
I really wish I had my baby...
I wish my baby hadn't died eleven weeks ago...
I wish that I didn't have to make a blog called 'Losing Landon'...
I wish it could be called 'Watch Landon Grow'...
I wish I had my baby... now more than ever.
As horrible as it sounds, tragedy isolates you. Not all tragedy, but mine does. I am the mother of a child that no one knows. I am a mother of a child that no one can see. I am the mother of a child that I can no longer hold. I am the mother of an angel. A special angel who was called home just before he was born.
My baby died in utero, 'fetal demise third trimester' that's what my doctor said at my appointment just days after burying my child. He said "we don't know why this can happen in a perfectly healthy pregnancy... these things just happen, I had another lady who this happened to just last week..." Were those words supposed to comfort me? Was I supposed to feel better knowing that 'I'm not the only one'? Was I supposed to be thankful that I had an "otherwise" healthy pregnancy? Really?
I left that appointment dumbfounded. My baby had died. I had just buried my only child and all I could remember him saying was "blah blah blah fetal demise". Words. That's what they are. That's all they are. Now. BUT then, it made me feel like I did something wrong, like I had in some way caused my baby's death, like it was my fault. I know that's not the case, and I know that was not my doctor's intentions, but feelings cannot always be controlled. Your initial reaction to something, the true initial reaction - your immediate thought/feeling/reaction, is not something you can control... it just happens. I control my secondary thoughts, I am responsible for what I do and what I say, as well as what I do not do and what I do not say.
I am a natural nurturer. My thoughts/feelings/actions are generally geared towards making others comfortable, and towards myself second. I have learned to keep most of my feelings to myself. I don't speak my mind. I don't cause conflict. I don't disrupt. It's just easier that way - I don't have to worry about making others uncomfortable... that's the natural nurturer in me. And unfortunately, it can cause me undue grief. The problem now is, I have true grief to deal with. I have been through a tragedy. I have lost a child. And I need to deal with it. I need to heal. But I have spent my whole life helping others... I have never learned to help myself.
This is my attempt. I have created this blog to help me heal. This is my place. Here I can 'think' things out, and work through things. I can say what I want and not have to worry about who may be offended. And I will. I promise myself that. I will use this place for me.
I really wish I had my baby...
I wish my baby hadn't died eleven weeks ago...
I wish that I didn't have to make a blog called 'Losing Landon'...
I wish it could be called 'Watch Landon Grow'...
I wish I had my baby... now more than ever.
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