So…
I’m pregnant again. Just like that. Dh was adamant about waiting the six months the midwives advised (due to the c-section) but as time got closer, he stopped asking about my fertility and I couldn’t bring myself to suggest we use protection. It’s not that I wanted to get pregnant this soon; it was just that to *avoid* it felt so wrong. I knew we would be pregnant again. I just wanted to lose all the baby weight, I just wanted to get through some more grieving milestones, I just I just I just…
I’ve followed several Pregnant After Loss moms on my message board and on blogs. I would bite my nails and hold my breath through their updates and sigh a deep sigh of relief to see their babies arrive safely. Well of COURSE their babies arrived safely. How could they not? Now that I’m on the other side of the fence, I feel terrified. I don’t WANT people to worry that this baby will die, whisper to each other “She’s doing it again. Wouldn’t that be a shame if…?” I don’t want people to watch me in fear and just pretend to have faith that this time, I will have a living, breathing baby. When I start thinking these ugly thoughts, I feel like saying to the Universe, “Oops, I changed my mind. I don’t really want to be pregnant yet. Can we just keep this same baby and save it for a few more months?”
I also feel this tremendous guilt that all of my loss mama friends aren’t pregnant right now too. I want them to have their rainbow babies too and I selfishly don’t feel safe without them traveling this road with me. I have been through so much with them. It was almost like our little club met in a red tent of sorts, the Dead Baby Red Tent. It was dark and sad in there but we were *together*, offering each other words or just our mere presence as comfort. I feel like someone opened the flap of the tent and shoved me out into the elements… alone.
I hate to sound ungrateful too. And I hate that I CARE that someone might read this and think that I’m ungrateful. Why can’t I just say what I want and not care?
The truth is I love this baby already and I’m already imagining my life with him/her and I’m scared to lose again. I want this little baby to stick around this time.
glow in the woods
i remember so vividly the night i stumbled across glow in the woods. i don’t remember how far along i was but i know my belly was big and heavy. i had been browsing my favorite photography blogs and read a tragic post about a mother whose baby had died. i clicked on a link to glow in the woods and read the ‘what is this place?’ description. i remember my mouth gaping open and reading incredulously. YUCK! especially this part, “One of us, only half-joking, said this will be a place where us medusas can take off our hats, none minding the sight of all the snakes. Because not only can we bear the sight of each other—we crave it.” i felt repulsed reading about dead babies while my own moved inside of me. surely this was some serious BAD luck to be reading this crap. i left the site and went back to my safe blogs, shaking my head to clear it. but you know, i also remember this horrible sense of foreboding. that’s what was so scary and stomach-turning. and now, i see the link on several of my favorite blogs and every time it feels like i’ve been slapped in the face. that is one website that i still can’t make myself read.
tonight is just sad. before the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day started creeping up, i’d been doing much better. of course i don’t post on the days that i feel good. i like to keep the negative theme of my blog going strong. seeing so many of my friends post loss related updates on Facebook has me feeling really depressed. like we’re all coming together for this huge, horrible cause.
i guess i’ve stayed up late enough playing depressing music on youtube and crying. i just miss Matthew. i don’t have anything fancy to say about grief or missing him. i just wish he was here so i could smell him again.
torture or therapy
because i don’t know what last night was! my midwife invited me and a few other moms to her house for some maternity photography practice. i have not taken any pictures since Matthew died so this was a big opportunity in more than one way. there were 5 of us, 2 of which were our pregnant models. one of the moms, M, i had gotten a chance to chat with beforehand through emails. she was very, very sweet and knew all about Matthew through our midwife so i felt safe in meeting her. the other pregnant mom, S, was a first-time mom pregnant with twins and i don’t think she knew my story.
when we were chatting as a group about poses, ideas, i started to feel like i was going to scream and run away. the room we were in was the midwives’ office; the same room i was in for all my prenatal apointments. the table that i was lying on when we found out Matthew’s heartbeat was gone was pushed up against the wall. the pretty dangly thingie was still hanging in the window. i remembered staring at it while they searched and searched for his heartbeat. my eyes started to fill and i couldn’t hear what everyone was saying for just a few seconds. i managed to shake it off and hang in there though.
at one point we were shooting outside and the pregnant with twins mom asked me if i had my homebirth with K. i was just dumbfounded. what was i going to say? “no, i had a hospital birth with them and my baby died. good luck with your birth!” i felt so torn. i didn’t want to deny Matthew but i realized quickly that maybe i didn’t have to tell everyone and what purpose would it serve to tell her this? i felt no resentment; i didn’t have anything to prove. so i said, “uuuuum, no” and finally managed to get out, “i had my homebirths with a different midwife”.
i can’t even describe how surreal the afternoon was. two beautiful pregnant bellies, smiles, laughter, anticipation, loving glances between partners. it was all too much and at the same time not enough. it was so nice to not feel resentful toward them though. i stared too long at their bellies and felt wistful and sad, yes. but they had THEIR babies, they didn’t have MY baby. it was nice to have that clear in my mind.
after several hours of shooting, i came home to my grandmother-in-law, who spent a few days with us so i could get some stuff done. this is the same gmil that was upset that we were having ANOTHER baby, was disappointed that it was ANOTHER boy and asked if my midwives could tie my tubes after the homebirth. whatever. i sat at the table with her after the kids were in bed and we talked about my day and how the kids were while i was gone. she asked me if it was popular to have babies in spas now, like i did with the last three living children. i didn’t know what was coming so i just told her that yes, it did seem that more and more women were doing it.
then she says, (and this is the comment that STILL infuriates me when i think about it) “it’s a good thing brennen was there to deliver clara since your midwife didn’t make it in time”. now, this might look like a fairly innocuous statement to you… but as soon as she said it, i set my fork down and just glared at her. i felt this FURY bubble up inside of me. how DARE she practically will Matthew into dying and probably feel happy that he’s gone and then try to take away MY birth and hand it over to a MAN! my dh is a great man but I BIRTH MY OWN BABIES, dead or alive! no one will take that away from me!
me: he didn’t deliver her. *I* delivered her.
gmil: well, wasn’t he the one to catch her?
me: NO, *I* caught her myself.
gmil: well, i thought he was the first one to hold her since your midwife wasn’t there.
me: NO, i held her while we waited for the midwife. i did it all!
gmil: oh, huh.
me: he doesn’t get the credit. I get all the credit for this one! he was standing a few feet away from me, just watching. I DID IT!
i went to bed and cried for hours, soaking my pillow like i haven’t done for weeks. once again, i feel like the grief in the beginning was so much easier to decipher. it’s very unnerving to spend the day feeling sort of “ok” and then just completely fall apart at night. gah, i’m just exhausted and spent today.
Wish you were here
I suddenly feel the need to locate all of Matthew’s things and find his pictures so I can remember just how he looked. Some days, I am ok with his memory being a little fuzzy. Today is not one of those days. I got out his pictures and realized I had forgotten that his hair was so wavy and that his eyelashes weren’t brown but golden. How could I forget that? When I look closely at his pictures, I can smell him again. I can remember just how cold but comforting his skin was under my hand.
My Clara has been breaking my heart lately. Lying in the bed the other night, she said to me, “Mommy, when I grow up, I’m going to buy the house right next door to you and break down the fence so we can be together. Then when I have my baby in the spa, I’ll name him Matthew and give him to you so you can have him again.” I can usually handle my own pain but seeing her pain is just almost too much to bear. ALL of my kids are grieving in their own way but her grief is just unavoidable. She was so innocent before. I hate that at 5 years old, she has lost her innocence. I was going through pictures from before Matthew died and found this one, just the day before we found out that Matthew had died. It speaks volumes to me. Looking very much like a little girl at play but also walking into the dark unknown.
And finally, this is the most recent song that has driven me to tears.
Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here
??????????????????
I don’t understand this. I remember early on in my grieving, I clicked on Mirne’s blog and saw that she had lost TWO babies and was expecting again. I thought wow, she is brave. And SURELY, this third baby will be the charm. To click on her blog and see that her THIRD baby, Jet, had died was just… unreal. My words feel so small when I try to imagine how she must be feeling. It seems every other loss blog is talking about this and I clicked on blog after blog, hoping that I would find one that made me understand. I just don’t understand. I’m ANGRY, I’m so angry for her. I want to find someone to blame for this.
Mirne and Craig, please know that you are in my prayers and thoughts.
Honest Scrap
Many hugs to my friend Juliet over at http://thepathimwalking.blogspot.com/ for sending this my way.
There are a couple of rules to accepting the award. Firstly is the pass the award on to 7 other bloggers, and secondly to list 10 honest and hopefully interesting things about yourself. Here are 7 of the blogs that I enjoy reading and impress me with their sincerity.
Bear with me here. I do not know how to rename links.
http://inannajourney.blogspot.com/
http://reflectionsofabutterfly.blogspot.com/
http://opusangara.blogspot.com/
http://clare-foxylady.blogspot.com/
http://lost–for–words.blogspot.com/
http://www.lifeafterleila.blogspot.com/
Ok, let’s see:
1. I speak Russian. Before we moved to the country, our neighbors on both sides were Russian. They worked with me on speaking, reading and writing. I spent countless hours studying their old schoolbooks and listening to lessons on tape. I love foreign language!
2. When I was pregnant each time, I had a very strange craving. Clay… in the form of cat litter. No, not dirty cat litter but clean right out of the bag. My midwives assured me that eating small amounts of clay was not harmful but the craving was SO strong that I had to limit myself. *embarrassed*
3. I am vegan; no animal products of any type.
4. I once rescued a group of Foster Farms chickens that were headed for slaughter. They only lived for a few months but they had a great life with us.
5. When I was a teenager, I strongly disliked children and didn’t want to have any.
6. I met my husband when we were 15 and 16. He had just broken up with my best friend.
7. I was diagnosed and used to take medication for OCD and anxiety disorder.
8. In high school, I had a serious drug problem and went to Hazelden for treatment.
9. I have never met a cat that I didn’t love. I LOVE cats. I especially love standoffish cats who attack for no good reason. lol
10. I make my kids crazy by changing the words to popular songs in a Weird Al Yankovich type of way. I can’t stop myself!
Well, that’s all for my far too revealing list of interesting things. What a fun change from the usual depressing posts!
sucks
that’s all. it just sucks SO BAD! i don’t understand how i can feel so much better and then hurt so much all over again. i understand now what people mean when they say it doesn’t necessarily get better, it just changes and you learn to live with it. if constantly having tears just under the surface yet continuing to function is learning to live with it is then i suppose i am doing just that. i have gotten accustomed to the near constant mild headache, lump in my throat, heartachey feeling.
i just read the birth story of a mom who was due shortly after i was. she was using my same midwives so i have sort of followed her pregnancy even before i lost Matthew. her baby is just fine. she has the beautiful pictures to prove it. why does it upset me so much that MY midwives were with her. they rubbed her back, whispered reassuring things to her. they did that with ME too. but my baby is dead and gone and hers is warm and cuddled up to her breast, no doubt.
i am so JEALOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i want to touch Matthew’s warm chest and feel his heart beating, watch his chest rise and fall, smell his milky-sweet breath in my face. WHY CAN’T I???????????? there are not enough exclamation points and capital letters to express this.
i think i’m going to have to sleep with his hats tonight.
shock
remember that mom i wrote about several weeks ago, the one that i ignored at our homeschool group? the one who sat next to me and nursed her toddler and i turned my head and tried to hide my tears? well, i had been feeling like i needed to tell her my story. i can’t stand that she doesn’t know. i felt annoyed that she thought i had only four kids. it wasn’t that i wanted to chat with her about it but i needed her to know that i wasn’t who she thought i was. i wanted her to know that i DESERVED to be aloof and bitchy.
so at the last lake day, i sat next to her and told her about Matthew. i told her that my weird behavior when she nursed her toddler wasn’t because i disapproved but because i had been thinking about the baby that i would never nurse.
WELL… she put her hand on her toddler’s head and looked right into my eyes and said, “Wait, i have to tell you something. This little guy had an identical twin brother. He died shortly after birth. So I understand. You don’t owe me any apologies.”
i was in such SHOCK that here right in front of me was another dead baby mama. she has been the focus of so much of my resentment lately and here all this time, she has been grieving her OWN dead baby. i clung to her the rest of the day. we traded stories, tears and even jokes. so much time went by and i was hardly aware of anything else. i have been searching for a real life friend and i found one in the most unexpected place.
We made it this time
… to the art class, that is. I’ve been wanting to write about it sooner but I’ve been avoiding my blog the last week. I hate every post I write as soon as I publish it. I compare my blog to the multitude of baby loss blogs out there. Am I the only one who seems to think that most of the dead baby mamas out there also majored in creative writing? I have got to get out of my own head!!! This blog is supposed to be for me. Why do I care so much?
Anyway, the assignment for the week was for each child to bring a momento of their deceased loved one and share it with the class. Clara brought a picture of Matthew and also his rainbow knitted hat. While I gave her a few minutes to adjust to the classroom and get settled in her seat, I scanned the room and tried to pick out the dead baby parents. I was still holding onto hope that I would find my new best friend here. After bonding so quickly to the loss mamas on MDC, real life people would only be that much better. No one made eye contact with me! I watched in disbelief as the other parents went to their cars and turned the engines on, windows rolled up.
The class was held in a conference room just next door to the hospital. THE hospital, the one where I had Matthew. I hadn’t really considered this fact until I sat in my car, unable to engross myself in a book. I abandoned my book and began to retrace my steps that I made on May 29th. I walked slowly through the parking lot, remembering how I parked right next to B’s truck and how we hugged before going in. I stopped and sat on the stone bench just outside the doors. This is where we sat and waited for the midwives. I remembered telling him, I don’t want to be here.
Inside the hospital, I walked the halls, the same halls I paced in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. I found the chapel and even discovered the scrawled note I didn’t even remember writing. That long night where I searched through the Bible on my knees, desperate to find some verse that would speak to the unbearable pain. Eventually, I made it to the birthing center. My room had been directly across the hall to protect me from hearing the living babies’ cries, such a stark contrast to the silent baby in my arms.
I sat in the small waiting area about 20 ft away from this room for 45 minutes. It didn’t take long for me to realize that there was a new baby in MY room. I had been hoping I could walk into that room and touch the bed and look out the window and remember. Honestly, I was disgusted that my room was occupied. How dare they take a living baby in that room and try to erase my Matthew’s memory. I was hoping to redeem the trip by at least running into one of my nurses. I sat and planned my little speech. I would remind her who I was and she would instantly burst into tears at seeing me again, remembering Matthew. She would ask me how I was doing and I would tell her that while this was the darkest time in my life, I was coping. I hadn’t shirked my responsibilities at home. I was making it… and she would be so proud of me.
I probably don’t need to say that none of that happened. I didn’t recognize any of the nurses who raced past me, undoubtedly to tend to a laboring woman or new mother doting on her baby. I decided I hated my nurses anyway and would never go back to the hospital.
Gosh, it’s almost 2am. I have to stop this!
Today is a better day
I just couldn’t leave that ugly post up on the top. Today, we’re dropping Christopher off at my mom’s to go camping with my little sister with their youth group. Then this Saturday, dh and I are going canoeing on the lake while his grandma watches the kids. Oh, and tonight Clara goes back to her art bereavement class! So yes, I am doing things so that I can have some me time.
Thank you for your sweet comments. 
Matthew's name in the sand on a beach in Australia
