Parke put it best the other night when he said, "the universe is not a fair place."
And yeah, I know, nobody ever said life was fair.
I started reading a book the other day that listed all of the things that they suggested parents who have lost a child should do before trying again.
Most of them I can get behind...go to the dentist, exercise, find a support system...
But then they hit me with this one, "make sure you and your husband would be okay if it happens to you again."
No.
No, I would not be okay if I lost another baby.
I am not okay with losing my first child.
What about every person at my gym, church, and office who all seem to have a baby with them...is anyone asking them if they are okay with losing that child? Of course not. So why should I have to?
If I ever get pregnant again, I don't care if it is tomorrow or ten years from now, it is because I have taken a leap of faith.
I know the world is not a fair place. I know that bad things happen to good people. But honestly, I think the universe has asked enough of me for now.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
That's the Girl Who...
Life after loss is full of contradictions.
One minute I am full of hope, the next I am terrified.
I'm afraid of being "the girl who"...as in "that's the girl whose baby died", and yet one of my biggest fears is the day someone forgets my sweet baby died.
I spend half my day dreaming of the family I want to have and the other half thinking of the family I will never have.
I want control of everything but am reminded daily that I have control of nothing.
Pick yourself up and get knocked back down.
One step forward, two steps back.
Crying, laughing, screaming...somehow I get up and put one foot in front of the other.
It's enough to make a crazy person insane.
One minute I am full of hope, the next I am terrified.
I'm afraid of being "the girl who"...as in "that's the girl whose baby died", and yet one of my biggest fears is the day someone forgets my sweet baby died.
I spend half my day dreaming of the family I want to have and the other half thinking of the family I will never have.
I want control of everything but am reminded daily that I have control of nothing.
Pick yourself up and get knocked back down.
One step forward, two steps back.
Crying, laughing, screaming...somehow I get up and put one foot in front of the other.
It's enough to make a crazy person insane.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Explaining the Unexplainable
I know that I don't owe an explanation to anyone, and I think most people don't question why I would want to have another baby after we lost Rip. But sometimes I question myself, how even after all that we have been through my biggest prayer is to have more children.
When I was probably around four years old, my mom found me just lying on the bed, doing nothing. When she asked what I was up to, I replied " Oh, just layin' around, waitin' on a baby to pop out."
I guess that is what this time of my life feels like now. I've always wanted to be a mom, for as long as I can remember. When I got pregnant with Rip, had Rip, then lost Rip...well it just made that desire even stronger. I know now what it actually feels like to be someones mama...but I have nowhere to put all of those feelings.
I've said it before and I am sure that I will say it again, it is so hard to be a mama to someone who is not physically on this earth. I cannot write the words here that would describe the way I feel about Rip. But no matter what I do, I can't hold him, or put him in a stroller, or feed him breakfast...those are the things that having him left my arms wanting to do that I just can't change.
I also honestly believe that Rip is safe. I believe that Rip is being cared for in a way that I cannot even fathom. I even believe that sometimes when the missing him gets to be too much that his little presence makes itself known, just letting me know he is okay. That gives me peace in my heart...but not in my arms.
I know many people worry that after you lose a child you want another baby to replace that child...but nobody will ever replace Rip. The only thing our next child will be getting is a few extra doses of love and probably a lot of spoiled.
I guess the thing that I have had a hard time putting into words, even understanding myself, is I want more children because of Rip, not instead of Rip.
I've been waiting to be a Mama since I was four years old, I became one when I was twenty-nine, I had a little boy who told me more about life and love in seven days than I ever could have hoped to know, now I hope that I am lucky enough to pass on what I've learned.
When I was probably around four years old, my mom found me just lying on the bed, doing nothing. When she asked what I was up to, I replied " Oh, just layin' around, waitin' on a baby to pop out."
I guess that is what this time of my life feels like now. I've always wanted to be a mom, for as long as I can remember. When I got pregnant with Rip, had Rip, then lost Rip...well it just made that desire even stronger. I know now what it actually feels like to be someones mama...but I have nowhere to put all of those feelings.
I've said it before and I am sure that I will say it again, it is so hard to be a mama to someone who is not physically on this earth. I cannot write the words here that would describe the way I feel about Rip. But no matter what I do, I can't hold him, or put him in a stroller, or feed him breakfast...those are the things that having him left my arms wanting to do that I just can't change.
I also honestly believe that Rip is safe. I believe that Rip is being cared for in a way that I cannot even fathom. I even believe that sometimes when the missing him gets to be too much that his little presence makes itself known, just letting me know he is okay. That gives me peace in my heart...but not in my arms.
I know many people worry that after you lose a child you want another baby to replace that child...but nobody will ever replace Rip. The only thing our next child will be getting is a few extra doses of love and probably a lot of spoiled.
I guess the thing that I have had a hard time putting into words, even understanding myself, is I want more children because of Rip, not instead of Rip.
I've been waiting to be a Mama since I was four years old, I became one when I was twenty-nine, I had a little boy who told me more about life and love in seven days than I ever could have hoped to know, now I hope that I am lucky enough to pass on what I've learned.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Attittude
Here's the thing...some days are just bad. You can try to dress them up, slap a smile on them, read all of the thoughts of the day and uplifting messages that you want...but they still stink.
Some days I just want to have a bad attitude. I want to sit here and think about every last little thing that has not gone my way. I want to clench my fist at every person who seems to have the world by the tail (don't worry, I won't swing, I'm really not prone to violence...yet).
I want to stomp my feet, throw a ketchup bottle, scream at the top of my lungs, maybe even pop a few fools upside their heads.
I want to say inappropriate things, and I want to do it where people can hear me.
I don't want to look on the bright side, believe things are going to get better, or give it time.
I will do all of those things, probably tomorrow.
But this is a terrible, horrible, crummy thing that I am going through here and it makes every other semi-rotten thing in my life seem that much worse. So I would like a few good days just to stew in my moodiness.
Promise not to try to cheer my out of my mood and I promise not to mind when you cross the road if you see me coming.
Some days I just want to have a bad attitude. I want to sit here and think about every last little thing that has not gone my way. I want to clench my fist at every person who seems to have the world by the tail (don't worry, I won't swing, I'm really not prone to violence...yet).
I want to stomp my feet, throw a ketchup bottle, scream at the top of my lungs, maybe even pop a few fools upside their heads.
I want to say inappropriate things, and I want to do it where people can hear me.
I don't want to look on the bright side, believe things are going to get better, or give it time.
I will do all of those things, probably tomorrow.
But this is a terrible, horrible, crummy thing that I am going through here and it makes every other semi-rotten thing in my life seem that much worse. So I would like a few good days just to stew in my moodiness.
Promise not to try to cheer my out of my mood and I promise not to mind when you cross the road if you see me coming.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Waiting on this Storm to Pass
A friend contacted me earlier in the week about a friend of hers who recently lost a baby a baby at full-term.
It made my heart hurt to think of someone having to go through those first days again. I honestly cannot think of anything more painful, looking back it almost makes me physically sick to remember it.
My friend asked me if I had any advice or resources I could pass along that might help, and I shot off a long email that was probably way more information than she ever wanted or needed on the subject, but it got me thinking that maybe I should write some of that information down here. These are the things that have helped me to put one foot in front of the other, from that first awful day until now, when even though it doesn't always seem like it, I am able to recognize that things are getting (do get) better.
It should come as no surprise that my faith has helped me. I literally don't think I would have been able to get up off the floor that first day or any day after if I did not think that Rip was safe in heaven. Going to church, reading the bible, praying, all of those things make me feel closer to him...I am so thankful to have grown up in a family who believed.
Exercise has helped a lot. Looking back, I was even more out of my mind (or drugged) than I thought, but I started doing a beginner boot camp about three and a half weeks after Rip died. It sounds insane, and it probably was, but having some physical strength helped me get some mental and emotional strength back. Just going for a walk in the fresh air has seriously saved me from some of my lowest moments.
I've already talked about the books that I've read that have helped me with the grief, but for me reading in general has been an escape. It's surprised me, when I was in the hospital I could not concentrate long enough to read anything, but I've probably read 30 books since Rip's death. You have to deal with your loss, but I see nothing wrong with a little escapism. Certain movies are good for that too, I went to see Burlesque (yes, the one with Cher) a few weeks before Christmas and sat for two hours not thinking about anything but moving to LA and becoming a dancer...
I see a counselor, and I know that is something that is supposed to be really "hush hush" but good lord, how in the world am I supposed to know how to do this? I have no idea how to deal with losing my child, why wouldn't I turn to a professional for help? It's just nice to be able to talk to someone who has no emotional stake in the situation (and quite frankly, is being paid to listen to me vent for an hour).
Someone told Parke and me right after Rip died that the important thing for us to remember was to be kind to each other....and I think that has helped a lot. I can honestly say that I love Parke more today than I ever have, but when two people are grieving it is always going to be at different rates and sometimes your first reaction is to be angry at the other person for not feeling the way that you do, but if you can remember to be kind no matter what... it helps get you through the tough parts. Having family and friends who love you enough to let you be unkind is pretty important too...you're going to want to yell and scream, and you've got to get it out somewhere.
I guess the last thing that has helped me is being really honest. Honest with myself and with other people. I've tried to be honest about what I was feeling, what I did and did not want to do, and what I did and did not want others to do. Sometimes it feels like I have been sad for a long time, and sometimes I feel like other people must be thinking "she's really got to get over this". But I'm not over it, not yet. And that's okay. I will get better with time, and until then I am just going to have to take each day as it comes and trust that this storm will pass.
It made my heart hurt to think of someone having to go through those first days again. I honestly cannot think of anything more painful, looking back it almost makes me physically sick to remember it.
My friend asked me if I had any advice or resources I could pass along that might help, and I shot off a long email that was probably way more information than she ever wanted or needed on the subject, but it got me thinking that maybe I should write some of that information down here. These are the things that have helped me to put one foot in front of the other, from that first awful day until now, when even though it doesn't always seem like it, I am able to recognize that things are getting (do get) better.
It should come as no surprise that my faith has helped me. I literally don't think I would have been able to get up off the floor that first day or any day after if I did not think that Rip was safe in heaven. Going to church, reading the bible, praying, all of those things make me feel closer to him...I am so thankful to have grown up in a family who believed.
Exercise has helped a lot. Looking back, I was even more out of my mind (or drugged) than I thought, but I started doing a beginner boot camp about three and a half weeks after Rip died. It sounds insane, and it probably was, but having some physical strength helped me get some mental and emotional strength back. Just going for a walk in the fresh air has seriously saved me from some of my lowest moments.
I've already talked about the books that I've read that have helped me with the grief, but for me reading in general has been an escape. It's surprised me, when I was in the hospital I could not concentrate long enough to read anything, but I've probably read 30 books since Rip's death. You have to deal with your loss, but I see nothing wrong with a little escapism. Certain movies are good for that too, I went to see Burlesque (yes, the one with Cher) a few weeks before Christmas and sat for two hours not thinking about anything but moving to LA and becoming a dancer...
I see a counselor, and I know that is something that is supposed to be really "hush hush" but good lord, how in the world am I supposed to know how to do this? I have no idea how to deal with losing my child, why wouldn't I turn to a professional for help? It's just nice to be able to talk to someone who has no emotional stake in the situation (and quite frankly, is being paid to listen to me vent for an hour).
Someone told Parke and me right after Rip died that the important thing for us to remember was to be kind to each other....and I think that has helped a lot. I can honestly say that I love Parke more today than I ever have, but when two people are grieving it is always going to be at different rates and sometimes your first reaction is to be angry at the other person for not feeling the way that you do, but if you can remember to be kind no matter what... it helps get you through the tough parts. Having family and friends who love you enough to let you be unkind is pretty important too...you're going to want to yell and scream, and you've got to get it out somewhere.
I guess the last thing that has helped me is being really honest. Honest with myself and with other people. I've tried to be honest about what I was feeling, what I did and did not want to do, and what I did and did not want others to do. Sometimes it feels like I have been sad for a long time, and sometimes I feel like other people must be thinking "she's really got to get over this". But I'm not over it, not yet. And that's okay. I will get better with time, and until then I am just going to have to take each day as it comes and trust that this storm will pass.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Have a Little Faith
I've always had this pie in the sky idea of what a Sunday should be...go to church with your family, eat a big Sunday dinner, take a walk in the sunshine, rock on the porch before supper...growing up in a family of six, I know that the reality is someone will usually be crying because they can't find their shoes in time for Sunday School and someone else will "accidently" whack their brother in the face and have to be sent away from the table during Sunday dinner...but I even looked forward to the realities of having a family of my own one Sunday down the road. Sundays are just made for family.
Since Rip's death, Sundays have been...I hesitate to say hard...hard is a word used for running a race or finishing a test, I've always associated the word hard with acccomplishing something...Sundays have been lonely.
I am lonely for what I thought I was starting and was not to be.
After a loss like mine, people will tell you that they know you will have children one day. As much as you want to believe them, you first instinct is to think, how do you know? And the truth is, they don't...they can't...I can't. Nobody can know what is going to happen tomorrow...that's where faith has to come in to play.
At some point, I am going to have to start to have faith. I am going to have to let go of the lonely and the sad and the afraid and have faith. I am going to have to have faith that one Sunday down the road someone will be crying because they lost their shoes, and someone will be in their room because they whacked their brother in the face at the dinner table.
Maybe not this Sunday, but some Sunday, I will let go and have faith.
Since Rip's death, Sundays have been...I hesitate to say hard...hard is a word used for running a race or finishing a test, I've always associated the word hard with acccomplishing something...Sundays have been lonely.
I am lonely for what I thought I was starting and was not to be.
After a loss like mine, people will tell you that they know you will have children one day. As much as you want to believe them, you first instinct is to think, how do you know? And the truth is, they don't...they can't...I can't. Nobody can know what is going to happen tomorrow...that's where faith has to come in to play.
At some point, I am going to have to start to have faith. I am going to have to let go of the lonely and the sad and the afraid and have faith. I am going to have to have faith that one Sunday down the road someone will be crying because they lost their shoes, and someone will be in their room because they whacked their brother in the face at the dinner table.
Maybe not this Sunday, but some Sunday, I will let go and have faith.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Where Does the Good Go
I guess it is safe to say that I have reached the dreaded "depression" phase of this grief thing. I knew it was coming, everyone warned me it was coming...I've been waiting for it, dreading it like the plague for the past 14 weeks, so I don't know why it has taken me by surprise.
According to "the experts", grief looks like this...
That is basically what it feels like too..I'm okay! No, I'm not! I'm okay! No, I'm not!
Symptoms of the depression phase include crying, sleeping a lot and then not sleeping at all, lack of appetite, lack of concentration, irritability, and bad hygiene (okay, I do draw the line there, my mom taught me that nobody ever feels better by looking bad, and I believe her).
Basically, none of this is anything I haven't experienced at least once in the past few months, but I think maybe the depression phase is just where is all catches up to you, your body finally just says give me a break!
There is a song called "Where Does the Good Go?", and part of it has been running through my head during this past week...
Where do you go with your broken heart in tow
What do you do with the left over you
and how do you know when to let go
where does the good go
That is kind of what this part of grief feels like to me...where did all of that good go? What do I do with all of the stuff that comes with this loss...how do I accept a broken heart and what parts of it am I supposed to hold on to forever?
The good news is, according to all of those so-called experts, things get better after this...and I don't doubt they will. I think that's another part of what makes the depression phase so hard...you know you are on your way to letting a part of your grief go and that can be whole lot scarier than just crying and sleeping too much.
So I am going to try to just take this phase as it comes (easier said than done, I'll admit) and give my body the break (breaks) it needs to heal. Find out where the good goes.
According to "the experts", grief looks like this...
That is basically what it feels like too..I'm okay! No, I'm not! I'm okay! No, I'm not!
Symptoms of the depression phase include crying, sleeping a lot and then not sleeping at all, lack of appetite, lack of concentration, irritability, and bad hygiene (okay, I do draw the line there, my mom taught me that nobody ever feels better by looking bad, and I believe her).
Basically, none of this is anything I haven't experienced at least once in the past few months, but I think maybe the depression phase is just where is all catches up to you, your body finally just says give me a break!
There is a song called "Where Does the Good Go?", and part of it has been running through my head during this past week...
Where do you go with your broken heart in tow
What do you do with the left over you
and how do you know when to let go
where does the good go
That is kind of what this part of grief feels like to me...where did all of that good go? What do I do with all of the stuff that comes with this loss...how do I accept a broken heart and what parts of it am I supposed to hold on to forever?
The good news is, according to all of those so-called experts, things get better after this...and I don't doubt they will. I think that's another part of what makes the depression phase so hard...you know you are on your way to letting a part of your grief go and that can be whole lot scarier than just crying and sleeping too much.
So I am going to try to just take this phase as it comes (easier said than done, I'll admit) and give my body the break (breaks) it needs to heal. Find out where the good goes.
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