This is going to be a rambling mess...much like the compartments in my brain right now...leaking from one to another with no barriers to separate and organize.
I'm running on empty. I don't sleep well. I can't concentrate when I'm awake. I'm irritable and ready to kill someone or something. I tried to find a racquetball club to join so I could smack the snot out of a rubber ball and I couldn't afford the membership fees.
What irritates me and drives me to blog these days? My family can turn a quick trip into Walmart into an hour long ordeal. Why, oh why, does he have to use a different cup every single time he gets another drink? My son has mastered the art of the never-ending three-year-old whine. People want me to be out and about and I just don't feel like it.
All I really want to do is spend the day tucked up in my bed with the covers over me.
But I have to keep going. I have to keep moving. A rolling stone, and all that.
I don't want to pick up my stuff from my mother's house (the stuff that didn't sell at the garage sale). I don't want to go to the library and return the books. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to pretend to watch Thomas the Tank Engine for the four millionth time.
I want to sleep. I used to sleep. I could sleep 12 hour stretches, wake up, and sleep for eight more. Now I'm lucky if I sleep two hours in a row. I'm beginning to think this is some cruel form of punishment. All these sleepless hours when I should be nursing and comforting a new baby...spent awake with no baby. I get the joy of the sleep deprived state of insanity, but none of the joy of love.
And as I sit here in this dark house, I get angrier and angrier. As each hour ticks off the clock toward a new dawn, I want to scream about it. I want to yell until my voice disappears from the strain. It's a wonder I'm able to talk to anyone at all without a stream of profanity passing my lips. This anger and venom keeps filling up my soul and I want so much to find a place to put them where they won't hurt anyone.
How is it possible to be so tired? And not just from lack of sleep. I mean the tiredness that invades the cellular level of the body and makes even breathing feel like it is the equivalent of a climb up Mt. Everest.
I certainly have nothing witty to say tonight. In fact, most of what comes to mind is mean and bitter sounding. It's not that there isn't hope for the future...it's that there is no plan for the future. There was a time when I could make a plan and do whatever it took to make it happen. I knew there was a possibility things wouldn't go as planned, but at least I was invested in the process. Now...who cares? Instead of wasting all that time planning, I should have just enjoyed the moments and hoped for the best. It seems things would have turned out the same...and I'd probably be a much happier person today.
Good God, I'm tired.
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6 comments:
I read this post and sat here trying for the life of me to think of something - anything - to write that would make even the slightest bit of difference.
The best I could come up with was that I am sorry that it has to be this way for you. But that's crap.
I mean, I hope you can let go of the anger, but I am so filled with rage myself that I can't really tell you to do that. There are moments when I feel something like an electric bolt pass through me, I am so angry.
So I guess just a big ole hug is about the best I can offer, but please know that wish there was more:(
Oh, Catherine, I'm sorry. :-(
Like Jill said, there's nothing I can do or say to make it better, but I can empathize with you.
This blows.
{{{{{{{{{{{huggggggs}}}}}}}}}}}
ps - I love the new template
Catherine, you're depressed. I know that may not be news, but there is help for it. Writing is just a little bit of that..............
I know it's not much help, but wanted to send you hugs. I can't help on the anger front, cause let's face it, I feel the same way, but I am here to listen for what it't worth. You really aren't alone. ((((((Cathy))))))
Count me in among your support team. You are definitely not alone with these feelings of rage and frustration. I don't know if this helps, but all of that time you spent planning brought you closer to your baby, in a way, and that has to be a positive thing. Since you missed out on all of the other experiences, at least you can look back and remember how it felt to anticipate the baby's arrival and how happy it made you at the time. Or maybe I'm full of crap...
Anyway, (((big hug))).
Ann
Catherine,
This is my 3rd attempt to post, so I hope it works. I too lost a child, my daughter AriEva, born still on the same day that you lost your precious Alex- 5/11/05. She was only 28 weeks gestation, and according to my OB office the cause has yet to be determined. However, I must admit that I share the same mistrust of the medical profession and current resentment that you seem to be conveying. i know (as well as the delivering doctor) that there were obvious blood clots in her umbilical cord, and the placental pathology report revealed microvascular clotting and inflammation. Follow-up bloodwork would suggest that I probably have antiphospholipid antibody syndrome. You see, this was my 8th pregnancy and my 5th loss- I have 3 living children and a step son as well. I will be 40 years old in February (a tad bit older than you), and am considering 1 last attempt at conceiving another child, though I do believe that unlike you, most people I known are opposed to this idea. I just wanted to let you know that I admire your spirit, your energy and your encouragement that you have been offering to all those that share our unfortunate situation. And I believe that I speak for many others when I say that you are truly an inspiration to your fellow sufferers of mothers to stillborn babies, and that your efforts offer much comfort and support to many of your readers.
Thank you,
Lisa
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