Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Thanksgiving {90 Days post partum}

     We dedicate one day a year to being Thankful. The rest of the year we whine about what we don't have, we complain about what we want. Hell, the next day, we push through lines, and fight to shop for things, and deals, we probably don't need. Traumatic  events sometimes make you hate the world. There are days, that I. am. so. done. There are days that I do not want to crawl out of my bed, times I literally have to force myself to stay off the internet because I am soo soo tired of seeing people complain about amazing things. Yes, your kid shit all over you house, but HELLO. That kid is amazing, and some days  I am way to prepared to tell you to shut the hell up about it.
     I have to force myself to realize though, that there are things I have to be thankful for. I have met some amazing women through this process. I have met women, who have suffered pain that I can't begin to imagine, yet they are still out there, kicking ass. So I will start there, I am thankful that I do not have their pain. I can not imagine, having multiple still births. I am happy I have not suffered that pain. I, in theory am completely capable of having more children one day. I am thankful for that. I feel awful that what I'm grateful for, is that I am not in as much pain as someone else, but it's true. I think that meeting people who have suffered deeper pain, and survived, is helpful in your perspective on life. Their stories give me that, just as I hope my story gives perspective to people who may take their children for granted occasionally.
     Mostly I am grateful that I am not alone... I'm grateful Matthew and I didn't get the house we wanted, a five bedroom, with some cosmetic issues, but I wouldn't want to be in a big old house, alone. I'm grateful I live next door to my Mom, I send her a whiny text message, and in a minute and a half, she has climbed up in my bed with me and crying beside me. I'm thankful that she gets me, that she can see a look on my face, and know I'm just having a really really bad day. When I get in ruts, she makes me lists of things, to do.
     When I first came home from the hospital, my list was to Get out of bed, take a shower, and to eat. Once I started to kind of get that down, she added to put on deodorant, to brush my teeth... To do all the little things that used to come naturally. She helped me shower, when I couldn't get in and out of the tub on my own, she stood by and didn't complain when I lost every single ounce of modesty that I had left. She definitely laughed, but she still helped me.  I'm grateful every single day, that I'm not alone.
I'm grateful for my Momma.
I hope one day, I have a child, who feels the same way for me.

Mom, I'm sorry I'm an ass. I'm sorry, that I probably drive you crazy a million times a day, but I can't imagine going through this, at all, with out you.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

"It will be just like one of my sunny days " {82 days Post Partum}

"I'd like to talk to you, and Matthew, before you are discharged. I am an RN, but I'm also a grief counselor. One thing I want you both to really understand, before you go home, is that you both are going to grieve at different paces. One of you may be having a wonderful day, and thinking about the sunshine. The other one may think of the sunshine, and remember that your daughter died on a sunny day, and that is okay. You need to support each other at every level, and remember not to hold it against each other. "
     "Another thing that you will learn, unfortunately fast, and hard, is that she is the center of your world. You revolve around her. Other people do not. There lives will move on, and you WILL be left behind, and that will hurt. A lot. People will expect you to be okay, and someday's you still wont be, and as unfortunate as that may be, it's okay."
     I never ever thought that my family would be that way. I never ever thought  I would feel alone in this battle. I never thought I would hear someone say "Get over it". I understand, that they aren't reminded, every single moment, like I am. When someone says how nice it must be for me to sleep in in the mornings, I think of all the mornings that my daughter should be screaming, and waking me up. When someone says "I wish I had time to _____ all day, I'm busy chasing this one around" I think of all the time I would give up doing ____ to chase my daughter around, or change a stinky diaper. When people complain about pregnancy pains, when people complain about there child having a bad day, when people are excited their children's accomplishments, I long for every awful crying moment, and all the good ones too. I know, that these things don't make them think of my daughter, but everything in the world, reminds me of her.
      I'm never going to not think of her. I understand that it others lives move on, but I haven't.
WHOEVER you are. Don't you dare ever look me in the face and tell me to get over it. I never will. I look like I'm okay, some days. The truth is, though, is that I'm drowning more today, then the day I lost her. I'm more broken, right now, than I was a month ago. I'm a wreck. I hate being alive, I hate getting out of bed in the morning more than I ever have.
     When all of the attention is on you, it's easier to feel okay. Wahh Wahh, pitty me, because the attention isn't on me anymore, right? Yeah. You can shut up too. When someone is looking at you everyday, checking to see if you're okay. You feel like you are okay, you have that support, you know that if you need it; it's there. When that goes away though, it's so easy to feel helpless. To feel hopeless.
     The smallest things break me now. I was told today, "Oh my fuck, you have to get over it at some point " and "We can't walk on eggs shells around you forever"
     If only you knew, how much of my life, of my heart, and of my soul, is an egg shell. You're right, you don't have to. It's not your job, to take care of me, it honestly never was. I need my family to understand that I am still grieving, and I understand that that is hard. It is impossible, however, for me to deal with negativity. I am holding myself together, with the thinnest of threads, it is literally the smallest of things that tear me open.
     If you are my family member, please know, I can't. I can't deal with any of it. I want to plan this happy wedding, and I can't. I can't because my family can't set their differences aside. I can't be happy, because my daughter is dead, but today, I feel like I can't even hold myself together, because my family has given up on "walking on eggshells" I wish everyone in my family could understand, that the things you are doing to each other, make you feel a little better for two minutes, but DESTROY me, for much longer. I know I can "stay out of it" and "Quit being so dramatic" but it's impossible, for me not to feel. For me not to dread, what I've seen my family do to each other a thousand times.
     I was so afraid, of my daughter being brought into this volatile mess of a family, while I was pregnant, I am now sad, she will never see it, yet, happy she will never feel this conflicting hate... She will never be caught in the middle, like I have been, my whole life....

      My friends have their own children to focus on, my family has holidays to prepare for, they have vacations to take, and people to see. My parents have their grandbabies to spoil, and a new one to kiss, my sister has her newest little one to keep her up all night. Here I am, stuck, and focused on the baby I'll never hold again, the baby I will never hear cry, the baby everyone else lets slip there mind,  my sweet little girl, who has brought me the biggest happiness, and the deepest pain. Maybe one day, I will function, like a normal person, but today I can't. I apologize to anyone who has crushed my shells today. But I just can't cope today.
Thank you, Jody, and Matthew. For being two rocks tonight, in a bumpy sea. Thank you, for standing behind me %100. I wouldn't have survived this day with out it