I was here and here. I was in that place where it felt weird, but I could honestly say it was just another of my scars...no longer a gaping wound.
And, with everything in my being, I want to be back there again.
A friend nailed it on the head when she said, "You know, you've been here before and probably expect yourself to be an expert at this grieving business, but having been there before doesn't make it easier or quicker, does it? Maybe it makes it harder to wait for the "good" days you know will eventually come?"
Honestly, it IS harder because I can't stop thinking...WHAT was I thinking? But if I'm honest, I have to admit that I did it to myself. I walked into oncoming traffic with my eyes wide open and just my crossed fingers to protect me. I didn't realistically consider how I would handle it if the baby actually died. I foolishly believed it couldn't happen...not to us...not AGAIN. I'd paid my dues and I was all set for balance to be restored. Because, really, what were the odds?
HA! HA! HA! HAHAHAHAHA!
And now here I am...jealous of everyone. Naive pregnant women. Women who've suffered loss but learned to live with it. Women who've just suffered their first loss even (how sick is that?).
THREE! Can you fucking believe it?!?!
I won't ask what I did to deserve this...because nobody deserves any of this. But I can't help but ask what I did so differenly than other women that I should have to bury three children? What is it about ME that makes the oh-so-natural process of pregnancy and chidlbirth such a nightmare?
In the end, I guess it doesn't really matter...no answers will bring peace...
They asked if we wanted genetic testing on "the baby." We said no. What's the point?
So I wear high heels and contemplate new hairstyles and slash away at my husband who is just doing the best he can to make it through another of my failures. I consider "flipping out" and quitting my job...maybe making chocolate chip cookies...maybe getting on an airplane and just going (I don't care where)...or breaking all the dishes in my kitchen. The possibilities are endless.
The course of antibiotics is over. A week. Time to get back to work. The phone calls come and I can't answer, for fear of bursting into tears on an unsuspecting client.
After a week, I fit back in my regular pants...as if nothing ever happened. As if it was all a dream.
When I knew Little Bug was dead, this is what I wanted...to just get back to my life.
Here I am.
Go me.
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7 comments:
I don't pretend I'm even qualified to just say ANYTHING to you in terms of trying to bring comfort or hope or peace. I'm not. But I want you to know I care. I'm thinking of you. Crying for you, crying with you. Screaming at the unfairness, the injustice of it all. I did want to ask if you've ever read Jayme Tate's blog? She has lost 3 babies-one born at 23 weeks to save her life (she had HELLP), one died at 20some weeks as well (found out at ultrasound), one born at 20 some weeks and lived for I think about 8 weeks but got an infection IN THE HOSPITAL and died :( And now she has twin boys who are 10 months old (she also has older children), and one of the twins was diagnosed with cancer when he was a few months old. She's someone who has been through a lot of stuff like you, and I just thought maybe connecting with her would at least make you feel not so alone, or something? She's a great woman and friend, so lmk if you want her blog or email addy.
All my love <3
JEN
I'm sorry. There is no rhyme nor reason to the world and it's infinite cruelties.
THREE! I still don't believe it either. Who would believe it? I think you were right to have had such "foolish" hope. I'm sorry.
hope is never foolish Kate....
I know you're thinking all of those things and really, nothing I say is going to make it any easier. Funny how all of us make comments anyway.
I've been in a haze after three losses last year...not to mention the mindfuck that was the lost fallopian tube. Every time I stick tubes up my my kid's bladder, take her to the doctor, listen to her ask me WHY she has to sit on the toilet with a tube in her stomach two times a day for an hour each, sometimes I just don't have any energy.
I looked the other day and realized her anatomy is completely messed up. COMPLETELY. It's my fault.
I envy all of those women who don't know the first thing about pregnancy loss of any kind, or who naively think that just because they're pregnant they're getting a baby. A healthy one, at that. I thought that having my son would close that gaping wound. It did, sort of. But the loss and then the loss and then the loss ripped it right the hell back open again. I keep wondering what I did wrong that other people didn't do wrong. I keep wondering why the naive ones get all the breaks. I keep wondering when well-meaning people will shut the hell up.
I have "friends" on Facebook I barely know, you know, the kind you feel bad not adding if they ask you to add them. I incessantly check their pages to see if they know if they are having a boy or a girl, or if something is wrong with the baby, or, I don't know, SOMETHING. I don't even know what I'm looking for.
I just expressed to a friend last week that I feel like I "should be happy" because I have two great kids and a husband who loves me. I have had three well-meaning friends tell me the same thing. It was like a bullet to the heart. Then I have to sit there and worry about whether or not I truly WAS grateful for all that I have in my life.
And then I thought, "Screw this shit. they have NO fucking clue what it's like to lose, and lose, and lose and lose again. and have that reminder of my failure, staring me in the face, begging me to stop hurting her...every day. so they can go fuck themselves." When someone says something to me about "getting over it", I want to say, "ReallY? do YOU want to try to explain to your 5 year old why she still shits her pants and can't hold her poop in, no matter how hard she tries?" "do YOU want to hold her while she's sobbing, not understanding why her innards WON'T STOP HURTING, no matter what you try?" really, I could shoot some of my "dear" friends for the things they have said to me. but what good would it do? it wouldn't fix anything.
I used to talk about it, to be open about it, but being open is too costly. So, I pretend as best I can, and I hope that it's enough.
guess i just want you to know you're not alone. you know who this is, just don't have the guts to put my name.
Three. No, I can't fucking believe it. And I will always be angry and heartbroken for you. With you.
(((((HUGS)))))
Hey, 'me' up there in the comments, i know who you are too. It's NOT your fault, and you didn't do anything to deserve it -- like Catherine didn't do anything to deserve it either.
(((((((hugs)))))) Three...all i still say is WTF. So, as usual, i got nothing....
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