Tomorrow would have been my due date with Faith. In case you're wondering if I've fallen off the face of the planet, I have not. I have, however, been a bit unsure of what to share about these days. There have been many times over the last few days and I'm sure there will be many more over the next week or so when I've thought to myself, "I shouldn't be doing this right now. I should be in labor." It's a strange thought.
My life right now is nothing like I expected it to be a little over four months ago, but in some ways I can't imagine it any other way. My loss has become a part of me. I am not the same person I was this time last year, nor am I the same person I was five or six months ago, but in some ways, I feel like I've made peace with the person I have become. I have discovered a new strength through this experience, and I am counting on that strength to carry me through tomorrow and all that it represents for us. I wish I didn't know just how strong I can be.
Thoughts and prayers are much appreciated tomorrow and over the next few days!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Time heals...
I think I'm not convinced that time heals all wounds to the point that they are no longer visible, but it does heal. It allows the wound to scab over and eventually scar. For the first few weeks after we lost Faith, I felt like a gaping wound, raw, painful, ugly and visible to everyone around me. Slowly, I began to feel like a wound that had scabbed over. I could face each day without feeling exposed and open, but it really didn't take much to open that wound again, for the raw emotion to surface.
I realized in the days approaching Valentine's Day, a holiday that I generally consider to be a bit ridiculous but somehow still occasionally painful, that my wound has now reached the early stages of scarring, that tender pink skin that is still quite sensitive but which doesn't open at the slightest brush. I still hurt. I still see that pink scar and am reminded of all I've lost. I can face holidays without dread and without expecting to simply survive.
I didn't just survive Valentine's Day. I enjoyed the day! I think I would have enjoyed the day no matter what happened yesterday. It was a beautiful day. I visited with a number of people throughout the day. I ran some errands. I made a fantastic supper (Do you ever surprise yourself by how well something you made turned out? I did that yesterday!). I enjoyed an evening with my husband followed by reminiscing about our childhoods while watching The Goonies. I couldn't have asked for a better day. For the first time in a long time, everything went exactly as I planned. It was just what I needed and a perfect way to experience my first holiday as a newly scarring, wounded person. I suspect that by the time Easter arrives my scar will be slightly thicker, that time will change my scar, and one day all that will be visible will be a thin, white mark, always a part of me, but not the overwhelming, gaping wound that is still so fresh in my mind.
I realized in the days approaching Valentine's Day, a holiday that I generally consider to be a bit ridiculous but somehow still occasionally painful, that my wound has now reached the early stages of scarring, that tender pink skin that is still quite sensitive but which doesn't open at the slightest brush. I still hurt. I still see that pink scar and am reminded of all I've lost. I can face holidays without dread and without expecting to simply survive.
I didn't just survive Valentine's Day. I enjoyed the day! I think I would have enjoyed the day no matter what happened yesterday. It was a beautiful day. I visited with a number of people throughout the day. I ran some errands. I made a fantastic supper (Do you ever surprise yourself by how well something you made turned out? I did that yesterday!). I enjoyed an evening with my husband followed by reminiscing about our childhoods while watching The Goonies. I couldn't have asked for a better day. For the first time in a long time, everything went exactly as I planned. It was just what I needed and a perfect way to experience my first holiday as a newly scarring, wounded person. I suspect that by the time Easter arrives my scar will be slightly thicker, that time will change my scar, and one day all that will be visible will be a thin, white mark, always a part of me, but not the overwhelming, gaping wound that is still so fresh in my mind.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Wonderings...
There should be a word for the thoughts that keep you awake at night. You know the ones, those thoughts that circle around in your head night after night which aren't quite worries, only questions, ideas for which there are no answers.
Lately, I've been wondering what February 28th is going to be like. That was my due date with Faith. I wonder how I'll be feeling, if the emotions of the early days of our loss will come back. I wonder if I'll be a mess or if I'll hold it together. Even though I know that grief is different for everyone, I wonder if grieving too much or too little on the day is healthy.
There are some days when it feels like this was always the way things were supposed to turn out. There are just times when I almost can't imagine what my life would be like right now, the way it should be, just weeks from welcoming our baby. For the first couple of months, there were all these milestones and expectations. The closer we get to my due date and what should have been the arrival of our baby the more I can't picture anymore the way things should be right now. I'm sure that doesn't make as much sense as it does in my head.
The events that should have been milestones the last month or so are things I was dreading doing 8 or more months pregnant. I think I was avoiding thinking about them. I knew I wouldn't have much energy during these weeks. I really needed energy. These have been busy weeks. I have been exhausted and overwhelmed without being 8 months pregnant. As much as I wish I were tired and complaining of sore, swollen feet, I can recognize how much easier these weeks have been than they would have been.
So, just like my thoughts at night (and night after night) are circular, I'm back to wondering what the next three weeks will be like and what I should think, say, do, feel on February 28. If you come up with a good word for these thoughts that aren't quite worries but are still nagging thoughts, let me know. I think we need a word for thoughts like these.
And say a prayer for my friend, RH, who just said goodbye to her second baby. She needs lots of love and prayers right now...
Lately, I've been wondering what February 28th is going to be like. That was my due date with Faith. I wonder how I'll be feeling, if the emotions of the early days of our loss will come back. I wonder if I'll be a mess or if I'll hold it together. Even though I know that grief is different for everyone, I wonder if grieving too much or too little on the day is healthy.
There are some days when it feels like this was always the way things were supposed to turn out. There are just times when I almost can't imagine what my life would be like right now, the way it should be, just weeks from welcoming our baby. For the first couple of months, there were all these milestones and expectations. The closer we get to my due date and what should have been the arrival of our baby the more I can't picture anymore the way things should be right now. I'm sure that doesn't make as much sense as it does in my head.
The events that should have been milestones the last month or so are things I was dreading doing 8 or more months pregnant. I think I was avoiding thinking about them. I knew I wouldn't have much energy during these weeks. I really needed energy. These have been busy weeks. I have been exhausted and overwhelmed without being 8 months pregnant. As much as I wish I were tired and complaining of sore, swollen feet, I can recognize how much easier these weeks have been than they would have been.
So, just like my thoughts at night (and night after night) are circular, I'm back to wondering what the next three weeks will be like and what I should think, say, do, feel on February 28. If you come up with a good word for these thoughts that aren't quite worries but are still nagging thoughts, let me know. I think we need a word for thoughts like these.
And say a prayer for my friend, RH, who just said goodbye to her second baby. She needs lots of love and prayers right now...
Friday, February 3, 2012
Dream a little dream...
If you were part of our journey through my pregnancy with Faith, you may have heard about my pregnancy dreams. As long as I can remember, I have had very vivid dreams. Fortunately past the age of nine or ten, the dreams that stayed in my head were never scary or unpleasant. Until I got pregnant...
I noticed quite early on that my dreams seemed to become increasingly vivid and increasingly strange. The high (or perhaps low is a better word) point came the night that I began having unpleasant somewhat scary dreams. In one night, I had a dream about zombies (yes, you read right!) chasing me and my family. Somehow this dream morphed into a very intense dream about loading horses onto trailers to rescue them from some unknown threat. I often see symbolism in my dreams, but even I can see that these dreams clearly had no meaning or significance beyond pregnancy hormones.
The night after we found out that Faith had no heartbeat I dreamed about her. Somehow, my subconscious recognized that we were having a girl even though we were not told her gender until after she was delivered. This dream was no less vivid than all the others. In it, I was carrying her around trying to explain to people that I was her mother. I don't think they could see her or if they did they did not recognize me as a parent. My mind was trying to work through the emotions of becoming a parent to a child no one would ever meet. Needless to say, I woke up and spent the rest of the night on the couch surfing the internet, reading, and doing my best to stay awake so that I would not have another dream. The next time I slept I had some help from a wonderful friend called morphine.
Once we arrived home and after one night of really unpleasant dreams, I had help sleeping in the form of Ambien and painkillers. I slept dreamlessly through the freshest part of my grief, and I was able to allow myself some much needed rest knowing that I did not need to fear having unpleasant dreams. I stopped taking the Ambien after about the first month, and for the most part, I have slept just fine. Some nights sleep is a little slow in coming, but I haven't had dreams that I can remember at all since the first night home from the hospital. I still have a few Ambien left. I'm saving them for right around my due date in a few weeks just in case.
I may have to rethink saving those Ambien, however, because last night was particularly unpleasant. First of all, you should know that we had some significant thunder and lightening overnight. I think that helped contribute to my dream. I had one of those dreams where even after you wake up and move around and try to resettle the second you drift back off the dream continues where it left off. And, I have to say this one was particularly nasty. I don't remember all the details, but let's just say it involved a large apartment building in which the upper floors were gradually collapsing and an elevator that would suddenly fall five or more floors before stopping between floors. I don't know if you've ever had a dream where it feels like you're watching it happen like a movie, but this was one like that. One part of me recognized that the logical choice would be to simply get out of the building, but the other part of me was part of the "movie" and, like all the other characters, hauled furniture and boxes from an apartment on one of the upper floors to one on a lower floor on the sketchy elevator.
If you have any thoughts about what this dream might mean or the significance of it, let me know, but I think I'm about ready to give credit for the creepiness of this dream to the storm and start praying that the next dream I have is more pleasant! So may you sleep dreamlessly or have happy dreams and may you never feel the need to wish for anyone (especially me!) that all their dreams come true (cause I never want to experience last night's again and I may have significant trouble the next time I'm faced with an elevator!!).
I noticed quite early on that my dreams seemed to become increasingly vivid and increasingly strange. The high (or perhaps low is a better word) point came the night that I began having unpleasant somewhat scary dreams. In one night, I had a dream about zombies (yes, you read right!) chasing me and my family. Somehow this dream morphed into a very intense dream about loading horses onto trailers to rescue them from some unknown threat. I often see symbolism in my dreams, but even I can see that these dreams clearly had no meaning or significance beyond pregnancy hormones.
The night after we found out that Faith had no heartbeat I dreamed about her. Somehow, my subconscious recognized that we were having a girl even though we were not told her gender until after she was delivered. This dream was no less vivid than all the others. In it, I was carrying her around trying to explain to people that I was her mother. I don't think they could see her or if they did they did not recognize me as a parent. My mind was trying to work through the emotions of becoming a parent to a child no one would ever meet. Needless to say, I woke up and spent the rest of the night on the couch surfing the internet, reading, and doing my best to stay awake so that I would not have another dream. The next time I slept I had some help from a wonderful friend called morphine.
Once we arrived home and after one night of really unpleasant dreams, I had help sleeping in the form of Ambien and painkillers. I slept dreamlessly through the freshest part of my grief, and I was able to allow myself some much needed rest knowing that I did not need to fear having unpleasant dreams. I stopped taking the Ambien after about the first month, and for the most part, I have slept just fine. Some nights sleep is a little slow in coming, but I haven't had dreams that I can remember at all since the first night home from the hospital. I still have a few Ambien left. I'm saving them for right around my due date in a few weeks just in case.
I may have to rethink saving those Ambien, however, because last night was particularly unpleasant. First of all, you should know that we had some significant thunder and lightening overnight. I think that helped contribute to my dream. I had one of those dreams where even after you wake up and move around and try to resettle the second you drift back off the dream continues where it left off. And, I have to say this one was particularly nasty. I don't remember all the details, but let's just say it involved a large apartment building in which the upper floors were gradually collapsing and an elevator that would suddenly fall five or more floors before stopping between floors. I don't know if you've ever had a dream where it feels like you're watching it happen like a movie, but this was one like that. One part of me recognized that the logical choice would be to simply get out of the building, but the other part of me was part of the "movie" and, like all the other characters, hauled furniture and boxes from an apartment on one of the upper floors to one on a lower floor on the sketchy elevator.
If you have any thoughts about what this dream might mean or the significance of it, let me know, but I think I'm about ready to give credit for the creepiness of this dream to the storm and start praying that the next dream I have is more pleasant! So may you sleep dreamlessly or have happy dreams and may you never feel the need to wish for anyone (especially me!) that all their dreams come true (cause I never want to experience last night's again and I may have significant trouble the next time I'm faced with an elevator!!).
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