Sunday, 27 February 2011

Time warps & rambles

Last few days have been strange, it's almost as if I have been transported back to the first few weeks where the memory reel seems to be playing over & over.  I seem to be transported back to certain moments without an antecedent, just poof & I'm there.  The difference is, now I seem to just be re living things, no emotion, just transported back & far away.  I wonder if the emotion will hit me eventually again or if this time warp will just replay as if for me to watch in an effort to never forget...not that I believe I ever could.

Today I confronted someone I thought was a good friend but turned out to actually be an acquaintance.  I have learned some people are so uncomfortable with my grief that they have abandoned our friendship while others have a found a way to put the discomfort aside long enough to show their support.  I have landed in the place where I acknowledge that both reactions are fine, hurtful but fine, one just demonstrates that we were not the kind of friends that I thought we were.  A terrible realization to make when things seem to be at their worse.  Another loss to feel when you feel like you've lost enough - but a lesson all the same. For those in the latter category, I am angry as hell, for those in the former I can only hope I never have to return the exact favour but am grateful beyond words & hope I can return their kindness.

Something else I've reflected in the past few days are the incredible acts of kindness I've experienced.  In the same way I never experienced such depth of pain, I have never known such intense kindness.  I think my faith in people - strangers mostly - is slightly restored.  I had given up on the better side of humanity for some time but i think I just wasn't looking in the right places.  It does sadden me that it takes the loss of my child to open this up but take some comfort in knowing that people have genuinely opened their hearts to me when they didn't have to & that when I am able, hopefully I can pay it forward.

Still broken, lost, angry, but also peaceful tonight.

Friday, 25 February 2011

Gratitude & Gritted teeth

Firstly - thank you to Lea for linking me to all the wonderfully kind & warm people who have left such inspiring words of comfort & love.   Secondly,  thank you to all of you who have popped over from Lea's blog & offered your support, I am truly grateful.

The past few days seemed relatively "normal" - I guess I numbed out from earlier in the week & was just coasting feeling somewhat detached from the hell that was Tuesday & then as if completely out of the blue it was as if the wind was knocked right out of me. 

This afternoon I was sitting in the kitchen at my workplace with some coworkers & enjoying a cup of tea when things turned from "normal" social time into an abyss of sadness & loneliness.  All I knew is that there it was, another co worker pregnant & due one week after James would have been born, having another conversation and perched perfectly in front of me for me to watch. She perked up straight with pride & pushed out her pregnant belly caressing it, showing it off with love.  I was in hell - the emptiness engulfed me completely, the space where James had been throbbing acutely & I was trapped.  If I stood up suddenly & left it would have caused a scene, I couldn't run, I couldn't cry, I just had to sit & watch & be alone in with my pain.  I can still feel it ache.

I am afraid of who i am becoming as my lloneliness & pain turns into anger, my tolerance remains diminished, my compassion seems lost and my purpose altered.  I almost watch myself through gritted teeth seething in my anger, not able to stop it from leaking out at times & wondering if I will be responsible for more loss - of relationships and/or opportunities.  I know anger is part of the grieving process in my head but in my body it feels unnatural but yet it seems to spill out of every pore.  I feel like I breath, sweat, taste, smell anger at times & then like this afternoon I feel destroyed, trapped, marginalized & then back to anger.  My only relief seems to be utter grief or numbness.

I want to manage my anger & use it constructively but recognize that like the broken down grief I felt initially I can't control it, it has to manifest itself & I can try and channel it but sometimes it will just come out.  I just hope that those around me will be able to show patience & forgiveness.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

What's in a name?

Today is a bad day.

I had to return to the scene of the crime today - back to the hospital for my 6 wk check up & just like everything else in this horror show of an experience, it was nothing like I imagined it.  The tears started on my drive down, kept coming on my way down the hallway to the elevators, on the ride up, by the payphone as I tried to let it out so I could be composed when I went into the clinic area, on my way to the clinic area, in the consult room, after blood was drawn & on & on & on. 

Bad day seemed like an understatment - like everything else words can't capture the essence of this special hell, but I had to come up with something to say when people asked.  One nurse asked if I was lost - the clinic is located on the same floor as the maternity & birthing unit - so obviously there was no room for tears of pain & grief in this bright & hopeful place.  The thing is, I am lost - I just pretend most of the time to navigate this world in the ways that make others comfortable. 

The OB finally arrived - she said a whole string of things & then she said THE thing & lifted a wieght off my shoulders.  She said  "I wouldn't call what happened a miscarriage, it was a case of Intra uterine demise..."  What's in a name?  The freedom of knowing that you & now everyone else will now know you were not to blame, that you didn't do anything wrong, that I DID NOT miscarry anything!  Our baby died & I had to deliver him and it is in not insignficant or just a miscarriage! 

The OB was compassionate, she spoke as a physician & mom & treated me with dignity, not a over reacting nutcase, not a fragile shell best left alone, as a woman grieving the worst possible kind of loss.  To the hospital & staff, I will always be grateful - such kindness I never could have expected from strangers - but in this strange reality it seems the most incredible acts of kindness have come from strangers - in the most unexpected ways.

I have reflected on what i wrote yesterday about being broken & i think it's the perfect description paired with the nurses reflection today - broken & lost.  I miss my child, I feel like I'm failing as a mom, unable to keep up the cherade the world expects indefinitely but I just try and keep telling myself today is a bad day. 

Monday, 21 February 2011

Coming home isn't suppose to be then end ...

I've heard it said that journaling is therapeutic - helps makes the unspoken tangible, a safe way to pour things out - without judgement.  Up until now - I've haven't felt ready but here goes nothing.

Today is the day that my son James comes home.  Today is also family day where we live and that irony sits bitterly with me.  James is joining our family only not in the way any of us could have imagined. 

The last month has been the worst in my lifetime, I have lived the most unimaginable pain, confusion, loss of purpose, loss of compassion - my child died.  The person I built my whole life being also died that day. 

I am both filled with terror & longing to have him home.  Having James home means things have come full circle and yet I feel empty, helpless, alone, abandoned.  James is invisible & so am I.  I am left with a shell to re-work, re-design & try and re-establish a purpose in this ridiculous life. 

All this sadness in juxtaposition with the utter joy of my other son Jeven - the literal light of my life.  His face is purity of joy & innocence.  How to be his adoring mom & mourn the loss of being a mom to James. 

I've heard it said by others who have had similar losses that they have lived the worst that can happen - I can't say that - losing Jeven is the worst thing could happen to me now & I have nightmares - sleep has the left the building & it only sends dreams as postcards to my most intense fears.

My James is coming home & I am too broken to go & pick him up, another failure in my being his mom.  I couldn't bring him into this world happy & healthy, can't watch him grow, never feel him snuggle in for comfort & love.  Only love him from a distance & hope he sees invisible me b/c I will never forget him or his life invisible.