December 10. For four and a half months, I could not wait for December 10. For the last four and a half months, I've been dreading it. Now, it's almost here. Morgan's due date.
Of the two of us, my husband has always been a little bit grinchy. While I've never been one to go overboard, I do enjoy the holiday festivities. Not this year. This year, I plan to completely ignore it, as much as that's possible when candy canes are set out as appetizers to the Thanksgiving turkey (retail wise, that is). Our little girl was supposed to be our Christmas present this year; the best present we could ever have gotten. Yet now we don't even have a lump of freaking coal, and it sucks.
The baby loss world is full of these vague articles on how to deal with the holidays after a loss. Be gentle with yourself, don't feel obligated to attend parties, etc. But what do you DO? There are never any action items. I guess I'll be in hiding, and do nothing. The weekend of the due date, we've been invited to three separate festive functions, and all invitations have been declined. If the gloom I've felt this week since Thanksgiving is any indication, the hosts will not want me at their functions, anyway.
I've just been in a weepy funk the past few days. Everything seems to set me off. When I say everything, I mean the everyday things that I shouldn't be doing because I'm supposed to be pregnant. For example, we went to my mom's in Florida for Thanksgiving. We even spent Black Friday at the beach! But the whole time, I couldn't help but think how I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be almost 38 weeks pregnant; I was not supposed to be 6 hours from home. The extra tacky, cheap baby toys they sell at the grocery store...the baby girl that the department sponsored for the holiday angel tree...the Christmas cookie onesie that's packed away under our bed...how every time I turn on the car, a Christmas song blares at me. I actually drove around in silence for three days because I don't have any CDs in the car. Oh yeah... the brand new car we got exactly one week before she died.
They...the ones that have been here before...say that the anticipation of the due date is worse than the actual day. I really hope this is true. But really, I just want to go to sleep and not wake up until 2013. Maybe just the hope of a new year will make things seem fresh and new. We started 2012 with such optimism. We were so sure that by the start of 2013 we'd have a little person in our home, or at least have one on the way. But hear we are, on the cusp of a new year, and it's still just the two of us.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
So Hurt
Ya know what? I'm going to stop making proclamations about how things are getting better. Each time, almost as soon as I hit the button to publish a post, something happens. I'm just going to keep my mouth shut.
On Monday, we attended our support group. The discussion usually bounces across a couple of topics, and it happened to land on how support after the loss of a baby can come from the most unexpected places, and how you'll be most disappointed with those closest to you. Over the past few months, I've heard or read so many of the most insensitive things that have been done or said to grieving parents. And I've always thanked my lucky stars that no one had said anything terrible to me. I guess I was wrong. My husband had it on his heart to share, and it happened to be something hurtful that his grandmother said about me shortly after Morgan's death. She told him "...maybe your wife's just not a breeder." WTF??!!@#$!!
Of course, as he'd never shared this with me, my head jerked up, jaw dropped, all that. My first thought was that she made me sound like a cow! As the comment kept rolling around in my head, I realized that I was beyond hurt. Though delayed, in one fell swoop, she hit on two of my biggest insecurities and fears surrounding our situation: that it was my fault, and that we won't be able to successfully have children of our own.
Logically, I know that what happened is not my fault. But, deep down, or maybe not so deep, I do feel that ultimately, any blame falls on me. If not for anything I did, then for what I didn't do. I didn't know that my body was slowly but surely preparing to spit my little girl out onto the ground. Where was my mother's intuition? Hell, where was the epidemiologist in me? Oh, yeah. I told her to go take a hike back in April. But, really. How could I not feel broken, or defective? My body truly failed my little girl when she needed it the most. I couldn't keep her safe. That, my friends, can not be denied.
Then, there's the future looming ahead of us. I want so badly to have our little family. We waited quite a while before trying to conceive Morgan. We were waiting for the "right time." And when she was conceived, the timing relative to just about everything seemed absolutely perfect. Now, though I know I'm not nearly ready to try again emotionally, it doesn't look like the "perfect" time will be back for a while. With me getting closer to finishing school, and starting to look for a real job, the window will be pushed until at least the middle or end of next year. Meanwhile, I'm not getting younger. Conceiving wasn't an issue this time, but what about next time? In addition, IC is not something that heals or goes away. It reoccurs, and it occurs at the same gestational age. Though a preventive cerclage is 80% successful, there's still a chance that we may not get our rainbow baby. At any rate, it won't be anytime soon.
I tried to explain to Chris why I was so hurt. While he said that his grandma's comment hurt him too, I don't know if he quite got where I was coming from. My entire life, I've always been on the fringe, never quite fitting in anywhere. The fat one, the Black one, the nerdy one, the quiet one. The one whose baby died. I've always been "the one." And so, I've also spent a lot of time pretending I didn't care what people said about me behind my back. Often, I really didn't care. But, just as often, I did. And that's why this comment hurt so much. Because now, of all times, we need good people in our corner; on our side. I don't know if I can deal with going to family get togethers where it feels like everyone is whispering about me behind my back. I told Chris that this was one time I'm glad we don't live near his family. I don't know that I could carry on as usual, knowing what she said. Hopefully, once some time goes by, I'll cool off. It's been two days already, and she said this three months ago. Right now I'm still hot, but with time...
On Monday, we attended our support group. The discussion usually bounces across a couple of topics, and it happened to land on how support after the loss of a baby can come from the most unexpected places, and how you'll be most disappointed with those closest to you. Over the past few months, I've heard or read so many of the most insensitive things that have been done or said to grieving parents. And I've always thanked my lucky stars that no one had said anything terrible to me. I guess I was wrong. My husband had it on his heart to share, and it happened to be something hurtful that his grandmother said about me shortly after Morgan's death. She told him "...maybe your wife's just not a breeder." WTF??!!@#$!!
Of course, as he'd never shared this with me, my head jerked up, jaw dropped, all that. My first thought was that she made me sound like a cow! As the comment kept rolling around in my head, I realized that I was beyond hurt. Though delayed, in one fell swoop, she hit on two of my biggest insecurities and fears surrounding our situation: that it was my fault, and that we won't be able to successfully have children of our own.
Logically, I know that what happened is not my fault. But, deep down, or maybe not so deep, I do feel that ultimately, any blame falls on me. If not for anything I did, then for what I didn't do. I didn't know that my body was slowly but surely preparing to spit my little girl out onto the ground. Where was my mother's intuition? Hell, where was the epidemiologist in me? Oh, yeah. I told her to go take a hike back in April. But, really. How could I not feel broken, or defective? My body truly failed my little girl when she needed it the most. I couldn't keep her safe. That, my friends, can not be denied.
Then, there's the future looming ahead of us. I want so badly to have our little family. We waited quite a while before trying to conceive Morgan. We were waiting for the "right time." And when she was conceived, the timing relative to just about everything seemed absolutely perfect. Now, though I know I'm not nearly ready to try again emotionally, it doesn't look like the "perfect" time will be back for a while. With me getting closer to finishing school, and starting to look for a real job, the window will be pushed until at least the middle or end of next year. Meanwhile, I'm not getting younger. Conceiving wasn't an issue this time, but what about next time? In addition, IC is not something that heals or goes away. It reoccurs, and it occurs at the same gestational age. Though a preventive cerclage is 80% successful, there's still a chance that we may not get our rainbow baby. At any rate, it won't be anytime soon.
I tried to explain to Chris why I was so hurt. While he said that his grandma's comment hurt him too, I don't know if he quite got where I was coming from. My entire life, I've always been on the fringe, never quite fitting in anywhere. The fat one, the Black one, the nerdy one, the quiet one. The one whose baby died. I've always been "the one." And so, I've also spent a lot of time pretending I didn't care what people said about me behind my back. Often, I really didn't care. But, just as often, I did. And that's why this comment hurt so much. Because now, of all times, we need good people in our corner; on our side. I don't know if I can deal with going to family get togethers where it feels like everyone is whispering about me behind my back. I told Chris that this was one time I'm glad we don't live near his family. I don't know that I could carry on as usual, knowing what she said. Hopefully, once some time goes by, I'll cool off. It's been two days already, and she said this three months ago. Right now I'm still hot, but with time...
Monday, November 12, 2012
I Don't Know What to Say
I really don't know what to say. About once a week, I think that I should post something. But, there's usually not much to write about. Every now and then, something will happen that I think might be blog worthy, but don't write anything. As I've written previously, I think I've turned a corner in my grief. There are still triggers, sad moments, and crying jags. But, I'm no longer so full of the cup runneth over grief, anger, and sadness that had me writing every few days.
I've never been much of a writer, really. Obviously, I'm a writer in the sense that I can put words on a page just fine. I have two blogs. But, writing has never been my passion. I never kept a diary growing up. I tried a couple of times, because that's what I thought young girls were supposed to do. But after an entry or two, it would fall to the wayside. I've always been more of a reader.
So, yeah. I've never wanted to write the next bestseller. Though, lately, I have wanted to write a book on cervical insufficiency. It's really bothered me that there's so little information on IC out there for the lay reader. What is out there is the bare minimum, and once you've read one pamphlet or book section, you've read them all. They're not very informative or particularly helpful. Parents in the thick of a pregnancy crisis don't have time to hunt down and interpret the medical literature. And since most folks don't subscribe to medical journals, the $30 per article access fee is more than ridiculous. I imagine writing a book that would provide ALL the information to parents who need it. I don't want to overload readers with medical jargon, yet I don't want to dumb it down to nothing.
So dear readers, what do you think? Should I continue blogging here? I'm not sure how some of you found this blog, but it seems like readership is on track to surpass my happy little baking blog, though nothing much is going on over there, either. It seems like most infertility or baby loss blogs end when the rainbow baby is born. I'm not pregnant, and don't intend to be anytime soon, so that's not the reason for my dwindling posts. Maybe this blog has served its purpose? Or maybe it's like those childhood diaries...temporary? Maybe writing that book is the next chapter? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter =).
I've never been much of a writer, really. Obviously, I'm a writer in the sense that I can put words on a page just fine. I have two blogs. But, writing has never been my passion. I never kept a diary growing up. I tried a couple of times, because that's what I thought young girls were supposed to do. But after an entry or two, it would fall to the wayside. I've always been more of a reader.
So, yeah. I've never wanted to write the next bestseller. Though, lately, I have wanted to write a book on cervical insufficiency. It's really bothered me that there's so little information on IC out there for the lay reader. What is out there is the bare minimum, and once you've read one pamphlet or book section, you've read them all. They're not very informative or particularly helpful. Parents in the thick of a pregnancy crisis don't have time to hunt down and interpret the medical literature. And since most folks don't subscribe to medical journals, the $30 per article access fee is more than ridiculous. I imagine writing a book that would provide ALL the information to parents who need it. I don't want to overload readers with medical jargon, yet I don't want to dumb it down to nothing.
So dear readers, what do you think? Should I continue blogging here? I'm not sure how some of you found this blog, but it seems like readership is on track to surpass my happy little baking blog, though nothing much is going on over there, either. It seems like most infertility or baby loss blogs end when the rainbow baby is born. I'm not pregnant, and don't intend to be anytime soon, so that's not the reason for my dwindling posts. Maybe this blog has served its purpose? Or maybe it's like those childhood diaries...temporary? Maybe writing that book is the next chapter? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter =).
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Turning a Corner, Maybe?
It's been nearly 3 and a half months, now, and I feel like I've turned a corner. The grief is not so ever present, and many days feel like "ordinary" days. Of course, there are still the not so great days, and her due date STILL has not come. I'm sure that day will be like losing Morgan all over again. Yet days like today, which could have been a humdinger, aren't quite so bad.
For example, a package from Gerber came in the mail today. I don't remember requesting anything, but it sure took them long enough to send these two giant cans of formula (which I'll donate to a charity or something)! Then, a few hours later, an email that JCPenney is giving away free family portraits in November arrived. Of course, Morgan wasn't supposed to be here yet to take pictures, but I'd already imagined how cute she'd be in pictures wearing the Christmas onesie I bought just a few weeks after finding out I was pregnant. (Yes, I bought a Christmas onesie in May. It was on clearance, super cute, and perfect for her due date. LOL.) But see, I can LOL now. A few weeks ago, either of these things happening would have ruined the rest of my day. Both in one day? That would have been a wrap. Today, I took a moment, gathered myself, and kept going.
I'll probably regret this post tomorrow, when something craptastic happens. But for now, I believe things are getting better. Things are going well school wise, and it has me thinking that it's time to start job hunting! The sooner that happens, the sooner a rainbow may appear in the sky!
For example, a package from Gerber came in the mail today. I don't remember requesting anything, but it sure took them long enough to send these two giant cans of formula (which I'll donate to a charity or something)! Then, a few hours later, an email that JCPenney is giving away free family portraits in November arrived. Of course, Morgan wasn't supposed to be here yet to take pictures, but I'd already imagined how cute she'd be in pictures wearing the Christmas onesie I bought just a few weeks after finding out I was pregnant. (Yes, I bought a Christmas onesie in May. It was on clearance, super cute, and perfect for her due date. LOL.) But see, I can LOL now. A few weeks ago, either of these things happening would have ruined the rest of my day. Both in one day? That would have been a wrap. Today, I took a moment, gathered myself, and kept going.
I'll probably regret this post tomorrow, when something craptastic happens. But for now, I believe things are getting better. Things are going well school wise, and it has me thinking that it's time to start job hunting! The sooner that happens, the sooner a rainbow may appear in the sky!
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