Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Ode to my Counsellor.

I never thought I'd ever talk about my counsellor.

Until October '08, the two worst things to have happened to me were not getting accepted into my university of choice (it was a HUGE deal when I was 18 - isn't everything!?) and then my miscarriage in September 07. That really hurt. But, and I mean no disrespect to anyone else who has suffered a miscarriage, I didn't need therapy to help me manage the grief. I was sad, terribly sad, that my tiny twinkle didn't stick around for longer but I was able to be pragmatic. "These things happen" - and, just as I've discovered about stillbirth since losing Emma, they happen a lot more often than most people care to acknowledge.

Emma's death is different. Never getting to bring her home with us is not something I'll ever get over. It's not something where I'm going to look back in 15 years and think, "Yeah. I really over-reacted there" (a la university rejection). I have to learn how to live with this for the rest of my life. From the minute I left the hospital I have been determined to grasp whatever is out there to support me. Hence, my near addiction to Internet loss forums and baby lost blogs. Connections, I need connections. D. & I attend a local SANDS (Stillbirth & Neonatal Death Society) group once a month. Some of the other parents are becoming friends.

We only started going to counselling a couple of months ago. We left the hospital with a sheaf of papers, a lock of Emma's hair and her very blurry footprints. I dumped it all in the corner of our bedroom and it remained there for five months. It was only when I started to put together a memory box for Emma that I tackled the pile of papers. Amongst the handy guides to grief was a printed list of useful numbers - including the number for the bereavement midwife.

You know how some people just have a warmth in their voice when you speak to them on the phone? That's Sharon. The first time I spoke to her to arrange an appointment, I immediately knew she was going to be truly valuable to D. and I. So, once a fortnight, we go and sit in a tiny room - not much bigger than a cupboard, drink tea and avail ourselves of Sharon's tissues. We invariably come out feeling the load is just a little lighter. We call it our Emma time - a place where she is the centre of attention, where we can talk about her birth, about the hopes we had for her, about the difficulties of living without her. We talk and we talk and we talk.

I love it.

11 comments:

Hope's Mama said...

Coming home with only the lock of hair, fuzzy footprints and grief pamphlets - yes I can relate to that.
I too really like my new counsellor. She's the second one. I "broke up" with the first one. I now find myself looking forward to that one hour a fortnight.

Inanna said...

Oh I'm so glad. So very glad. That lightens my heart, just reading it.

still life angie said...

So incredibly helpful to have a time and space to grieve, talk about Emma, cry, have someone witness your loss. Bless the caregivers and therapists of this world...Much love.

Juliet said...

I've also gone to a SAND meeting and met with a counsellor (and plan to keep going), and I feel exactly the same way as you desribed. I really like having a safe place where I can talk about Lachlan and cry in such a supportive environment.

Amy said...

I'm glad to hear talking actually helps you. I've been encouraged to call a counselor for a few weeks now, but I've been hesitant to do it not knowing if it would actually help or not. The phone number has been sitting in my purse, so I finally called today. We shall see what comes of it...

Shannon Ryan said...

I'm so glad you have your special Emma time.. it's so important to keep them close to our hearts, isn't it?

Mirne said...

I agree that a miscarriage is not the same. One of my sisters said to me "you're not the only one who has lost babies". She has three healthy girls and had two very early miscarriages (before 8 weeks). She is comparing her miscarriage losses to my losses. I could have bashed her. She doesn't know what she is talking about (lucky her).

redbyrd said...

i am so glad for your emma time and that you have someone to share that with.....

aliza said...

i'm so sorry that you don't have emma with you. and glad that you found someone to sit with and have emma time with, somewhere safe where you can cry and drink tea because like you said this is not something we ever get over.

xo

Dalene said...

I really appreciate having a safe place to talk about Baker, especially when the rest of world has largely moved on. We continue to go every 3 wks. I am so glad that we are both committed to participating. I'm glad you have that time, too.

kay said...

Dear Jill, I am so sorry for you loss of your precious daughter Emma. I'm glad that your having special times to talk about Emma, as its very important. When I lost my precious son Nicholas in 1994, I wasn't aloud to talk about him, and in the end I came crashing down 10 years later. I have recently set up a memorial blog to honour our precious lost loved one's, its called 'Eternal Names By The Sea'. While I was down at my local beach the other day writing names by the sea, I was thinking of you and Emma, and I hope you don't mind, but I wrote Emma's name by the sea & have taken some photo's that I would love to email them to you. if you would like to know my memorial blog, and what its all about, the link is: http://eternalnamesbythesea.blogspot.com/
I look forward to hearing from you.
(((Hugs)))
Kay xxxx