I'm still here, still reading - though not so frequently right now. Still celebrating when there is news to be celebrated and breaking my heart when I read of more sadness and more hurt. Just - not posting or commenting much.
I know from other mothers that what I'm experiencing is not unusual. The aftermath of Emma's birthday has been so much harder than the days before or the day itself. It's not the raw numbness of this time last year, the weeks between her death and her funeral. It's flatness - and tiredness. Exhaustion seems to be a very physical manifestation of grief for me. I just can't seem to pull round and find my va-va-voom. It's been swallowed up in a general sense of "bleurgh".
I have such fear too. I have been working so hard to embrace this new pregnancy and give our little Jurgen all the love and excitement and anticipation that his/her siblings have all had in utero. Mostly, I think I've managed it - I am genuinely in love and every kick represents hope. But, passing Emma's birthday has brought the alternative possibility right back into my field of vision. I reached viability the same week I reached my daughter's birthday - a minor co-incidence that I have found very hard to reconcile. Catherine has written very powerfully about what the word viability means to her. My, somewhat morbid, thought on the subject was that legally I'm now in the same position I was last time. If Jurgen dies I have to go through exactly the same again - registering his/her birth, arranging a burial. Jurgen has been so real to me for so much longer than just these past two weeks so but somehow that landmark - a small celebration for most innocently pregnant women - has combined with the oppressive sadness of these past few days to make the hope and the possibility of a better outcome feel a little more elusive.
I haven't fallen back to the very bottom of the pit but it feels like I've fallen in and got caught in a ledge half way down. I will climb back out - I know that. It's just taking a little bit of time.
9 comments:
Jill, my dear, I know how you feel. When we hit 20 weeks with this baby, while not a viable age, I did think "well if I lose him now, he's a real person and I have to arrange another funeral". It would not be a miscarriage, it would be the loss of a child and a very real person, even though he'd already been very real for many weeks prior. We hit "viability" right around Hope's birthday, too. And that did make things so much more complicated. Like me, you seem to have found the days after her birthday harder. It is such a huge build up then such a crushing let down. A year has passed. They are still gone. We are still sad. Everyone and everything else just keeps moving on.
Thinking of you and your babies, Jill.
Your post made me realize that I will hopefully be still very pregnant when Jenna's one year birthday comes around... Wow. I know this landmark must be so very difficult for you. I hope the rest of your pregnancy is blissful and perfect. I truly hope you enjoy it. I know it is hard. And I can only imagine as the delivery date approaches the anticipation only strengthens. Praying for you.
*hugs*
I wish I could help calm you through your fears. ((HUGS))
I can only imagine how difficult it is to be pregnant after loss. Sending you prayers for strength and peace in your heart as you await this new little one.
I put myself into a cocoon of sorts when I got to the 'viability' point in my pg after. I almost created alternate selves that could handle different parts of who I was at the time. The mom me, the friend me, the outside me and the db mom me in blog land. I called myself the schizo b/c it was how I felt, but it worked for me.
I wish I had a magic recipe for you that would make it all easier for you but I don't. You just have to make it through each day, each moment and remember that each second that you get through gets you that much closer to the finish line. And, absolutely, when you have the 'shiny happy' pg moments, embrace them. This new little life deserves every bit of happiness you can share. I know it was those moments, the ones where I tucked myself away and just let myself love the new life inside me are the happiest memories I have of my rainbow baby pg.
If you need to talk, I'm here.
xxoo
kalakly at yahoo dot com
Thinking of you, Jill.
There's no rhyme nor reason to grief, is there? I definitely go through phases of skim reading or avoiding blogs all together. Times when I feel the loss of Iris so intensely that I just can't find the words for others' losses.
I'm here to read and listen when you do feel like writing. Lots of love to you xxx
((hugs))
I very much understand how you feel. Exhaustion is a huge manifestation of grief for me, too. Often when I'm having a particularily bad time, it's all I can do just to survive the day and get the bare necessities done without collapsing into bed and staying there for a week.
Pregnancy after loss is sure a different experience as I'm finding out... I definately miss that innocense I had with my other pregnancies, and yes, those morbid thoughts are really hard to avoid.
Keeping you in my thoughts.
Oh Jill. I can't imagine, I really can't. My experience of pregnancy is pretty limited as it is and I can't begin to understand the mixture of emotions you must be feeling at the present time.
That must have been hard to reconcile, Jurgen just being in with a fighting chance the same week as your little Emma might have turned one.
Hoping for so very, very much for you and little Jurgen. xo
I have been playing the avoidance game, too. One one hand I have the same feelings of how Jareth is a "real" little guy now, no matter what. On the other hand, I have a lot of guilt surrounding whether or not I am doing right by him this pregnancy. It's like a tight rope - it's so hard to keep balance with happiness pulling you one way, grief pulling you the other. *hugs* You know where to find me if you want to talk.
Post a Comment