Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Green beans and other dead baby ramblings

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I was eating so many green beans because it was the one green vegetable that didn't give me gas (or worse). I had to balance my diet, but greens just didn't agree with me. So I ate green beans.

I was seriously sick of green beans after just three weeks.

I would kill to have that reason for eating all those green beans back.
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Got the statement from the insurance company for "Laboratory" and "Pathologist." $454 for the autopsy on a 20 week pregnancy. This beats the one for the delivery...$29,000+.

Why do they send me these things?
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I walked out. We had birthday cake in the office for a coworker's birthday. I did not stay and make idle chatter. I got my cake and got the hell out before the conversation turned the inevitable direction toward pregnancy, babies, and happy little lives. I feel like I accomplished something today for myself. Now, I just need to work on the rest of the world.
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This is from my dear friend Julie. Yes, it's a rock. But it's a rock with my son's initials on it. It means more to me than I can possibly explain.

Of course, she is holding it hostage until I agree to a weekend of shopping and eating and drinking. Sigh...such a chore to have great friends.
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And since it seems Blogger is giving me fits about posting pictures, I will have to go open another folder in my Flickr account to show you the bracelet I made and sent to the mommy of a stillborn little girl. She is the relative of a friend and I HATE that she has to go down this road. She should have her baby...not a pink little bauble in remembrance. But it's the best I can do. I hope she finds some peaceful moments and that the grief is not too heavy for her to carry.
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The Compassionate Friends are having a national conference July 14-16 in Dearborn, MI. Steve and I are thinking of attending because there are several workshops that speak directly to pregnancy/infant loss, or rather, what comes AFTER pregnancy/infant loss. I would encourage anyone to seek out support wherever they can find it. Even if you think you don't need it. It can't hurt anymore than losing a baby (or two), so we've got nothing to lose by participating.
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From my very pregnant friend...
I hope this whole paragraph comes across in the spirit in which it is intended, that is, that I don't want to be the source of any additional pain or heartache. I hope that makes sense. I also don't want you to think that I am putting up any kind of a wall between us, I just want to open the door a little crack first and peer in before swinging it wide open and barging in! I will keep you posted if anything drastic happens or changes, and I will share any info you want - but I do not want to be a pain in the butt (or heart) either.

I know how crazy I feel...but I must be a real challenge to deal with. I like the door analogy. Maybe we should hang a sign on the door that says, "Beware...crazy bereaved parent inside." I think Julia suggested t-shirts...so we could identify each other as mommies of dead babies...but it would be equally helpful to warn the unsuspecting public as well.
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I have updated my blogroll (thanks for noticing Kate). It seems grief and sadness motivate me to research and read.
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Yes, Laura, I am able to briefly summarize individual bullet points...that's the lawyer in me. Now if I could only remember where I left my shoes...

That's the fun of it, isn't it? The simplest tasks become huge chores. And the huge chores just sit undone. Oh, I'm having so much fun. I want to scream. I want to throw things. I spent Sunday in the garden with the hoe in an effort to work some of it off. And it did, briefly. Now, I have an incredible urge to throw this computer mouse at the wall and watch it break into a million pieces. But since my office is too cheap to offer me a mouse with a scroll wheel and I'm using my own, I will resist that particular urge. But as soon as I find some obsolete government-owned piece of property that is easily destructable...watch out.
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Have I mentioned that cheeseburgers are too emotionally difficult to eat? Yeah...that's how screwed up I am now.
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I touched Travis' toes, his face, his hands, his body. I only touched Alex's feet and hands wrapped up in a blanket. Why did I do that? I know why. Because his face was so soft...baby soft...but his skull was mushy...and it freaked me out. I was so afraid he was going to fall apart if I unwrapped him too much. So I peeked, but I didn't do what a mommy should do. And I didn't dress either of them myself. Even knowing what I know, I couldn't dress Travis myself. I regret so much.
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I think I'm headed for a day off this week. I just can't deal with "normal" life the way I need to.
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Why didn't I let Steve pack my lunch this morning? Better yet...why didn't I just throw out the damn green beans?
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2 comments:

Laura said...

Filet o' fish sandwiches are my emotionally difficult food. They were my favorite things when I was pregnant, but I haven't touched one since. That's probably a good thing, actually. I'm glad that you mentioned that--I was feeling kind of nutty about not being able to eat a sandwich.

grumpyABDadjunct said...

WTF is "normal" anymore?

For me it isn't food, but places. It was such a relief to move and not have to go by the funeral home on the way to work.

Mom

My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...