Friday, June 8, 2012

And Another One

If it wasn't for the fact that the "good days" allow me to feel for the most part "good" I almost want to say I hate them. I say that because I hate this constant going back and forth between this feeling like there is hope and feeling as if things will never get better. I say this because the other day was an incredibly bad day with yesterday being a pretty good day. It was one of those days where I thought maybe I can get through this, but now today and I am up crying already and feeling incredibly depressed. I want hope, I need hope, but it is just so hard grasp.

Why am I going through this again?!

So many people keep telling me how strong I am. Am I strong? Because I feel so incredibly weak. I hurt, it hurts, and I just want this pain to stop already. I want to be with all my friends who have never had to feel this pain or I just want to be with all my baby loss mom friends enjoying their rainbows but always remembering their big brother or sister in heaven. Why couldn't I have either of those?

After Liam died I remember how so many people told me how they didn't think that they would be able to live if one of there babies had died. That continued on through my whole pregnancy with Evelynn. I remember thinking the same thing after Liam died. How I was ever going to make it through this dark time in my life? I knew I had only two options; live or die. Dying clearly wasn't an option. Although there were definitely times I had wished I would've just died with my son or that I could've taken his place, but I made it through. The hope that I had for my rainbow baby is gone and I find myself asking that same question. Do I want to let this tragedy take over my life? Do I want to let it consume me? Do I want to live or die? To continue to try and live the best you can after not one, but now two major tragedies is definitely not the easy option. I am not saying that I want to die but I am once again having the same thoughts as I had after Liam died. Part of me wishes that I would've never woke up that night after the c-section with Evelynn so that I could be with both of my babies again. Part of me also wishes that I would've never woke up from the c-section but that Evelynn would've survived and could be with her daddy. She could be with her dad and I could be with Liam. Thoughts like this clearly get me nowhere and aren't fair to Dereck neither but sometimes it seems that either of those would be better than what I am living with.

I know life is difficult for so many and for all sorts of reasons, but I am so tired of having to put so much effort into just trying to get through a day. I want to feel carefree and joyous. I want back the feeling I had when I thought my daughter was going to be coming home with me. Will I ever feel that way again?

There are a couple of things I wanted to do outside of the house today but I find myself already getting anxious over having to go to a public place by myself again. I hate feeling this way, like I can't go anywhere. I feel trapped inside my house, and my head, and yet too scared to be anywhere else, alone, near people, activity, life. I am not sure if anyone has ever seen the movie The Fear Inside. It was a movie back in the early 90's about this woman who had agoraphobia. She could not leave her house. The way I have been feeling lately made me think about this movie. Am I turning into that lady? Am I going to become agoraphobic?

I don't even want to go downstairs in our house. I have been more less staying upstairs if at all possible. Our bedroom is downstairs and I have only slept in our bed twice since we have been home, so twice in the past 9 days because I just can't handle being down there. I fall asleep on the couch every night watching tv and even when Dereck goes down to bed I prefer to just stay on the couch. I don't know why I can't handle being in my own bed, but I can't. 

I hate this feeling, its as if I am losing all control.

I haven't mentioned this before because it makes feel like I am losing my mind but I swear I am having phantom kicks. I awoke to that feeling again this morning. When I feel, what to me feels just like a baby kicking, it stops me in my tracks. It makes me think of Evelynn and I try to remember what it was like when she was with me kicking away. But then at the same time I feel like I don't even remember what it was like being pregnant anymore and that was less than 2 months ago. How can I not remember what it was like to be pregnant anymore since I more less have been for the past 2 years. I really think my mind is trying to cover Evelynn up. Like she never existed. I have pictures of me pregnant with her, pictures of us at the hospital together, etc., but yet I feel like I don't remember anything. I don't even remember being in the hospital with her and what it felt like to hold her for the very first or last time. Other than the physical items I can see of hers, her life, and the pain I feel in my heart, it seems just like last year and the rest never happened.

I feel my posts are just repeats of last year. So much of what I am saying is all the same like I could just copy and paste an old post from this same time a year ago.

I just hate this and am so scared of this person I am becoming.


  1. When thee bad days are this intense it does make you wish you didn't have good days because it feels like falling that much further instead of already being down with not far to go since you are already down there, I totally get that.

    I hate the "strong" are a surviver and you are doing amazing even though it feels like shit. Because of you living and sharing your babies we all get to know about them and their memory lives in all who read your words. I don't think there is a mother out there who hasn't wished she could trade places with her baby to give them the chance at life. Your feelings are so normal for this.

    I had phantom kicks for months after Addi died. I thought they were both cruel for taunting me and wonderful for letting me remember my girl. They really catch you of guard though don't they?!? If only we could decide when they happened! As at as forgetting what it's like to be pregnant that's normal too, but because you blogged throughout your pregnancy you have a timeline of sorts for your Evelynn so that is always there for you whenever you need it. I know it's not the same and not as good, but it's something.

    Thinking of you constantly. You are not repeating yourself, we are all hear to listen to whatever you need to say.

  2. I will never understand why you are going through this again.. I'll never understand why any of us go through it, but you losing Evelynn has just shaken my world. I often say (about my own situation), "it's just not fair..", but I have no words for what you are going through. I can't even imagine.. I'm just so, so sorry. And I really do believe that one day you will be taking home a child to shower with all that love you have. I'm just so sorry that Liam and Evelynn wont be there too. It breaks my heart.

    I've been feeling like shutting myself inside and not going out in public. Kinda worried I'll end up being a cat lady, staying in the house with the cat and never going outside. But to be honest - it sucks out there, I don't WANT to face the world. I'll do it when I'm ready. And so will you.

    You're definately not losing your mind. I had phantom kicks too. My husband looked at me like I was crazy, until he saw one happen (my stomach jumped and he freaked out). It's an awful, cruel consequence of giving birth. Only awful and cruel to those who don't have their baby in their arms. All I can say is that three months down the line, I haven't had any phantom kicks for a while. They stopped, just like my milk dried up and my uterus shrank. These physical things will go.

    I have hardly any memories of being pregnant, none of giving birth or being with my son when he was born. I'm not exaggerating - there's literally nothing. I think sometimes your body just shuts down and decides that it's too painful to remember things. I think you not remembering things is normal. And I'm hoping with you that we both start to remember things as time goes on.

    There's some quote about not knowing how strong you are until you have to be.. It's so very true, especially for baby loss mothers, and very especially for you. You ARE strong, because you don't have a choice. You have two beautiful babies to honour. They didn't get to live their lives, so you have the awful responsibility of living yours in their absence. You have to suffer instead of them, because that's what Mothers do. I've wished all those things you've been wishing. I've wished that they'd just let me bleed to death or that some freak stroke of lightening had killed me the day I left the hospital without my son. But what keeps me hanging on is that whisper of hope that one day I will have a baby in my arms again. Just take each day as it comes. There is no shame in fantasising about not being here, not having to put up with all this terrible stuff. Just keep talking, and keep holding on to that little whisper of hope. Your time for happiness will come, I have every faith in that. Until then, I'm wondering with you why things had to be this way and why my Aidan and your Liam and Evelynn aren't here. Sending you huge cuddles. xx

  3. That feeling of losing yourself is expected and as I say "crazy is the norm now". I wish so much you didnt have to go through this again. Dont put to much pressure on yourself to function unfortunatley everything is going take time and there is no measure of that. I still suffer from the agoraphobia, some days are better than others, my recovery hasnt been fast but over time it's just all become expected and a part of my new normal. I wish I had words of wisdom that could make all the suffering go away for you but all I can say is that that I am thinking of you and I wish I could be there to cry with you and wrap my arms around you in a hug. xoxoxoxo

  4. I hate the "you're so strong" comment too. It's not that I'm strong, or superwoman or anything, I sometimes just plod through each day enduring until it is nighttime, cry myself to sleep because I don't want to do it all over again the next day. It is so hard losing a 2nd angel baby and being thrust back to the beginning of the grief journey, only this time it is a familiar journey and it makes me mad going through each stage of grief again because I don't want to be there. I've had a lot more anger with the grief over my 2nd angel baby. I have that same fear of going out and being around other people. It has gotten better so that now I can at least handle grocery shopping again, but, there are still moments when I still hide in my house.
    I wish this was all different for you and that you hadn't been sent "back to start" again in the sometimes not so great game of life.
    You're in my thoughts and prayers. ((Hugs)) :`/

  5. There are no words. Babies shouldn't die ever, but rainbows especially shouldn't die. This is so terribly unfair. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

  6. I remember the taunting of the phantom kicks well. They lasted for months after Jack passed away, and they scared me and made me happy at the same time. Must be a muscle memory or muscle spasms.

    I'm sorry you're having those heavy days and you've even found yourself in this spot once again. It's horrible, and I wish there was something we could do. We all miss and love your babies and wish this could all be so different.

    Thinking of you momma.

  7. Strength, or the appearance of being strong is just a state of mind, not a true state of being. I often questioned my own "strength." To me, it was never strength, it was a choice. I knew I had to make the choice of learning to live again or dying right along with her. Dying was never a choice because I knew so many people were counting on me, they needed me. That helped me move on. Yes, it was hard. There were days I didn't want to get out of bed.

    I can only imagin how you feel right now. Please know that there are so many people out there that care about you and are wishing and praying for your "survival." After all, that's what it is...survival. No parent should ever have to outlive their child. It's just not right.

    You will have your rainbow, one day. I just know it. Keep the faith, cry as much as you want. Hell scream at the world, you certainly have every right to. Do what you have to do momma.

  8. You are definitely not going crazy! Grief in itself is one hell of a crazy shitty ride, and dealing with every day things can seem impossible.... I know that in time you'll be able to leave the house comfortably again. And I pray that you find your joyous, carefree self someday too.
    Sending much love!!!!!

  9. My memories of Eva are becoming fewer and fewer, and growing more foggy. I didn't write much of anything down because I would always start crying like crazy. I felt like there was no way I'd ever be able to forget any single detail, but oh how I was wrong. I remember a lot, and I've been meaning to start a journal to record things I do remember...but I'm afraid of the pain it might bring up again. I'm still pretty worn out from my grief, and hardly have enough strength to make it through my current life without dredging old and buried feelings.

    I had phantom kicks for a few months after Eva, but they gradually decreased in frequency over that time. This past Friday was the first phantom kick I'd felt in a few months. I'm not sure if it's just regular stomach grumbling, though, because I associate that feeling with tiny kicks now.

    Where I'm at in my grief, I think time has helped me mostly return to my normal self. It's been over 10 months since our loss, but I still sometimes have hours or days where I am hysterical and I feel like a crazy person. Life has just kinda caught up with us, and it helps distract me from the grief. Working is a good distraction, but I had to change jobs to help escape reminders. Maybe a job change wasn't necessary, though, because I'd only been back at work for 2 weeks when I accepted a position with a different group. And I think going back to work will help you to begin going other places, too. I was at home for 8 weeks, and hardly left the house during that time. After about a month of being back at work, I was able to go places again.

    Anyways, it sucks big time to be in this position again, and I know people just don't know what to say. Hell, I've lost Eva to the same damn surgery as Liam, but I don't know what to say to you about Evelynn. I'm just so angry at everything for you.

  10. Becky I am so sorry. Still thinking of you every day - I know just choosing to do small things or get through one day can take a lot of energy. Really, don't expect too much of yourself for a while. Grief is exhausting and all-consuming.

    And I remember the phantom kicks - mine lasted for many weeks after Elizabeth was born and then re-appeared randomly all year.

  11. Oh, I wish there was something I could say. But there are no words. I think that what you are feeling is normal, but that doesn't make it suck any less. Not wanting to go to bed, well, going to bed is scary. There is darkness and stillness, and it is a great place for thoughts and missing to creep in. No wonder you don't want to go there. And leaving the house, there are happy people there, people with babies, people who are going to ask you uncomfy questions. Who wants to be exposed to that when you are in the thick of grief and despair. I think it will get better. I hope it will get better.

    Just like being brave doesn't mean that you don't feel the fear (it means that persevere despite it), I don't think that being strong means that you don't feel the pain and despair. It means that you feel it, but you still get up in the morning. You feel it, but you still look for some hope. You feel the despair, and you share it and expose yourself, and try to somehow and someway make tomorrow a better day. That is true strength.

    - otdina

  12. praying for you. and keeping you so close to my heart.


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