Showing posts with label ttc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ttc. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 November 2009

Subsequent Pregnancy Guilt

Survivor, survivor's, or survivors guilt or syndrome is a mental condition that occurs when a person perceives himself or herself to have done wrong by surviving a traumatic event. It may be found among survivors of combat and natural disaster, among the friends and family of those who have committed suicide, and in non-mortal situations among those whose colleagues are laid off. The experience and manifestation of survivor's guilt will depend on an individual's psychological profile.
(from Wiki.ped.ia)

Lately, I've been dealing quite a lot with what I can only really describe as "Subsequent pregnancy" guilt. I love this community. I have no doubt that my path through grief has been a little smoother, a little less lonely because of my involvement in various online communities. But, it is strange to actually cry tears of anger, frustration, joy for people I have never met face to face. There is a large degree of trust going on here. You have to trust that I am truly a bereaved mother, just as I do for you. And I do ...

To digress for a moment: my husband and I are big fans of a cult, terribly British, sci-fi show from the seventies (sounds great, doesn't it !?) called Blake's 7. I remember, in particular, an episode when an idealist, alien, freedom fighter tells a far more cynical character: "My people have a saying. One who trusts can never be betrayed, only mistaken." I can't quite decide if that is profound or just terribly cheesy. Maybe it's both. But I think of that quote often when I'm meandering around in cyberspace, especially this babylost portion. I choose to believe the blogs I read - usually because there is something in them that strikes me as real or honest, something I recognise from my own experience of losing a child. As a result, I do invest a lot of emotional energy in what I read. I quite often dwell on posts throughout my day. I quite often feel frustration at my inability to do more than simply post an (often inane) comment.

So, back to the pregnancy guilt. There are a lot of us here who are navigating our ways through pregnancy after loss. But, I am so very aware at the moment, there are many other blogging parents who are hoping and longing for another pregnancy. And I feel so tremendously guilty that I already have 2 living children and I've been able to conceive with relative ease again. I feel a little ashamed of having broadcast my very straightforward, average PAL when other pregnancies after loss are not straightforward and have risks of complications and difficulties attached.

I suppose all I can do is to say that I do not take the blessing of my living children for granted. I do not, ever - not for one minute - take the blessing of this little life within for granted. In the midst of fears about losing again and grieving again, I do acknowledge the awesome privilege that this pregnancy has been and is. And to say that I long for each and every babylost mother or father who wants it to be able to walk this path too is an understatement.

Thursday, 7 May 2009

The Glass Baby

Apologies to fellow MDCers. This might seem familiar as I posted it when I wrote it back in December. But, conception, fertility, hoping for another a baby, parenting after a loss - all these have been on my mind a lot recently and I still don't think I can express how I feel better than this.


The Glass Baby

I wake one morning
Aware of molten glass
Pouring into me.
It burns and the pain makes me cry.
But my tears don't cool the fire
So I grit my teeth and reach down.
I pull and push until a shape is formed -
A tiny glass child.
I look at my hands, burnt and bloodstained,
And I fold them over my belly
To protect the fragile life within.
IT ISN'T ENOUGH.
Until suddenly, my little glass boy floats.
I look inside and see his sister.
She is rocking him and crying tears of joy.
Her tears surround him in a warm, wet bath.
He floats, protected and happy,
My tiny man.
Her tears reflect in the glass of his limbs
And Rainbows burst from my womb.
Her tears, my broken hands, his rainbow
Surround him on our journey
'Til he bursts forth in a gush of her tears and my blood.
I recognise his newborn cry
As a call of goodbye to his womb mate
His newborn limbs flailing a wave
To his loving sister,
Who smiles and kisses his head,
Before wrapping herself in our rainbows
And tucking herself back into my heart.

Monday, 4 May 2009

The Great British Art of Understatement.

D. (Finding me, daydreaming in our room): Are you okay? Are you feeling sad about Emma?

Me: Well, yes a bit. But, really, I was thinking about the fact that the little one we miscarried would be turning one right around now. His due date was May 4th last year. I'm just feeling really fed up because we've been trying to bring a third baby home for over 2 years now and we haven't managed.

D: Yeah. We haven't been terribly successful at that have we?

Me: No. Not terribly.

Cue slightly manic laughter from both of us.

P.S Have I mentioned how much I love this man?