I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb.
My emotions are all over the place. Happy one second, bawling the next, angry in a matter of an unwanted look, stare or comment.
It is so difficult to be happy around pregnant ladies. I have to avoid eye contact, conversations or looks of pitty. I am truly happy for them, but I have lost my innocence & know that tragic endings happen. (No amount of weeks or months can protect you, you are never truly in a "safe-zone.")
So while I am happy for them, I am also praying and almost holding my breath that they don't have a miscarriage-late term miscarriage-stillbirth-infant loss. This broken silent road, echoes the heart wrenching wails of mothers & fathers grieving so heavily, for their lost child(ren) that even demons would be terrified to travel this road.
As I sat this afternoon with a pregnant family member, it was hard. As I listen to complaints of: being Huge, can't move, I want this baby out, dr says he's gunna be big, clothes we got at the baby shower aren't going to fit him at the right season of the year-do you want them?....I had to try and kindly ignore everything going on around me. Not a good way to cope, but how does one react to a situation like that?
My thoughts turned to a little bit of bitterness & jealously.
"I would love nothing more then my son to be kicking the crap out of my bladder."
"This coming Christmas was suppose to have 2 new little baby boys, but now we will only have 1."
"I want my belly to be big and round like hers."
"I miss Harbor."
It just seemed to continue on. I just wanted out of the house & that situation. I kept trying to gesture to my husband that I was ready to go. But I don't think he got the hint, until I was about to burst out, "Quit complaining about your petty, stupid issues. Get over it. Things could be so much worse."
When he was ready I was up & out the door as fast as I could. No good-byes from me. I hurried as fast as I could for the car with children being rounded up as I went.
My mood has been really down since this afternoons visit. On my drive home I started thinking about how I would feel or possibly act when my family member gives birth this week to her son.
I might possibly hold him & just bawl with joy & sorrow and not want to give him back. I might be just fine. I might just be a ticking time bomb of emotions. I hope my family members will be ready & Okay with however the whole ordeal goes down.
Because if NOT....Bbbbbboooooooooommmmmm!
I. Might. Just. Detonate.
Showing posts with label "safe-zone". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "safe-zone". Show all posts
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Why does it have to be so Taboo?
There is nothing you can say or do to comfort me. There are no words that can right this wrong.
I started this blog to help myself cope with the loss of my son Harbor. I am the kind of person that internalizes everything. I am a thinker. A ponderer. I over worry about most everything. I hate being blind sided. I don't care much for surprises.
Don't get me wrong, I am a go with the flow kind of person. But when bad things happen or difficult situations arise, I like to feel as though I have some sort of control over what's going on or at least feel, like I have control over how I react to what's going on.
Let me elaborate on what I mean to say: when my now 7 yr old was born ("M") he had many medical/health problems. I would research possible diagnosis' and grieve over the devastatingly bad news of possible out comes for our son. I would spend hours, days & weeks toiling over what his life & our lives would be like with "M" in it or not in it.
Once I grieved over the possibilities. It was easier to move on & once an actual diagnosis arose, it was easier for me to handle. Kind of like I was able to prepare myself for what was to come. I once told my husband that the reason I seemed so strong during grueling hospital stays & endless trips to the ER or Dr visits with "M" was because I grieved & then moved on to the...OK, now we know what's going on phase. I could pull up my big girl panties & move onto: How are we going to manage his care & what do I need to do to get us through this with the best possibly out come.
Kind of like, I knew what was happening. So I wasn't stuck in the "What if's?" & "Why me, why us & why our son?" Questions. I was a take charge person & I was NOT a heap of bawling, blubbering mommy emotions. I knew what would be happening & how it would happen. I wasn't scared. I wasn't an emotional wreck. I would say I handled a lot of my sons appointments, surgeries & diagnosis' with peace, comfort & poise. I had my moments of crying, yelling at God & Indifference's with many Drs. But for the most part, I held myself together quite well.
I was informed. Not taken by surprise. I felt prepared for what was to come.
But in the case with a late term miscarriage or loss of a baby...I wasn't prepared. I was completely, 100% taken by surprise. Unaware of the events to follow. Unaware of the pain stakingly hard decisions I would have to make.
Naive, I suppose. Lacking in this information of probable loss. No books I've read had prepared me. No friends had truly warned me that it was a high possibility. I knew it happened but I mean, I've probably heard a handful of people's stories told through random second party retold stories. Nothing 1st hand from someone whom experienced it. I totally bought into the whole, once you've reached that 12week "safety-zone" your out of the woods & it's a for sure thing. I thought once I had past the 1st trimester that I was pretty much guaranteed a happy, healthy baby at the end of my long journey to 37-41 weeks.
Boy was I wrong to believe such ideas. It bothers me that I took for granite the ability to carry & birth a live baby in the end. I hate that miscarriages, late term miscarriages & still births are so Taboo. It needs to be known. Moms need to know that even though they are pregnant now, that there is a good probability that your baby might not make here on Earth, alive. They need to be informed so that they can be prepared. So that when or if, it happens to them, they can know that others walked this horrible road before them & that they are NOT alone.
Since I have been honest with my friends & family about our loss, of our son Harbor, out loud. I have been shocked & flooded with stories of others whom have lost a baby at some point during their pregnancies. I can't count on my fingers & toes because there have been too many to keep count of. What ticks me off is...why the hell am I just learning of these loss' now? How come nobody has spoken up before & shared their bitterness, their heartache and their journey through grief? Why bottle it up & hide it like its a dirty little secret?
It's NO secret.
MY. SON. DIED.
Am I sad? Yes! Am I angry? Yes! Am I heart broken? Most definitely! Am I trying to pick up the pieces? Of course! Do I have to walk this road alone? I most certainly, hope not.
I hope more people step up and have the courage & can be brave enough to share their stories with the world. My son meant the world to me! I want everyone to get to know him! I want his life (even though it ended in utero) to be known! He lived! For 16 glorious weeks, he lived! He lived inside of me! And that's the hardest part of sharing my story. I am the ONLY person who knew him while he was alive.
I started this blog to help myself cope with the loss of my son Harbor. I am the kind of person that internalizes everything. I am a thinker. A ponderer. I over worry about most everything. I hate being blind sided. I don't care much for surprises.
Don't get me wrong, I am a go with the flow kind of person. But when bad things happen or difficult situations arise, I like to feel as though I have some sort of control over what's going on or at least feel, like I have control over how I react to what's going on.
Let me elaborate on what I mean to say: when my now 7 yr old was born ("M") he had many medical/health problems. I would research possible diagnosis' and grieve over the devastatingly bad news of possible out comes for our son. I would spend hours, days & weeks toiling over what his life & our lives would be like with "M" in it or not in it.
Once I grieved over the possibilities. It was easier to move on & once an actual diagnosis arose, it was easier for me to handle. Kind of like I was able to prepare myself for what was to come. I once told my husband that the reason I seemed so strong during grueling hospital stays & endless trips to the ER or Dr visits with "M" was because I grieved & then moved on to the...OK, now we know what's going on phase. I could pull up my big girl panties & move onto: How are we going to manage his care & what do I need to do to get us through this with the best possibly out come.
Kind of like, I knew what was happening. So I wasn't stuck in the "What if's?" & "Why me, why us & why our son?" Questions. I was a take charge person & I was NOT a heap of bawling, blubbering mommy emotions. I knew what would be happening & how it would happen. I wasn't scared. I wasn't an emotional wreck. I would say I handled a lot of my sons appointments, surgeries & diagnosis' with peace, comfort & poise. I had my moments of crying, yelling at God & Indifference's with many Drs. But for the most part, I held myself together quite well.
I was informed. Not taken by surprise. I felt prepared for what was to come.
But in the case with a late term miscarriage or loss of a baby...I wasn't prepared. I was completely, 100% taken by surprise. Unaware of the events to follow. Unaware of the pain stakingly hard decisions I would have to make.
Naive, I suppose. Lacking in this information of probable loss. No books I've read had prepared me. No friends had truly warned me that it was a high possibility. I knew it happened but I mean, I've probably heard a handful of people's stories told through random second party retold stories. Nothing 1st hand from someone whom experienced it. I totally bought into the whole, once you've reached that 12week "safety-zone" your out of the woods & it's a for sure thing. I thought once I had past the 1st trimester that I was pretty much guaranteed a happy, healthy baby at the end of my long journey to 37-41 weeks.
Boy was I wrong to believe such ideas. It bothers me that I took for granite the ability to carry & birth a live baby in the end. I hate that miscarriages, late term miscarriages & still births are so Taboo. It needs to be known. Moms need to know that even though they are pregnant now, that there is a good probability that your baby might not make here on Earth, alive. They need to be informed so that they can be prepared. So that when or if, it happens to them, they can know that others walked this horrible road before them & that they are NOT alone.
Since I have been honest with my friends & family about our loss, of our son Harbor, out loud. I have been shocked & flooded with stories of others whom have lost a baby at some point during their pregnancies. I can't count on my fingers & toes because there have been too many to keep count of. What ticks me off is...why the hell am I just learning of these loss' now? How come nobody has spoken up before & shared their bitterness, their heartache and their journey through grief? Why bottle it up & hide it like its a dirty little secret?
It's NO secret.
MY. SON. DIED.
Am I sad? Yes! Am I angry? Yes! Am I heart broken? Most definitely! Am I trying to pick up the pieces? Of course! Do I have to walk this road alone? I most certainly, hope not.
I hope more people step up and have the courage & can be brave enough to share their stories with the world. My son meant the world to me! I want everyone to get to know him! I want his life (even though it ended in utero) to be known! He lived! For 16 glorious weeks, he lived! He lived inside of me! And that's the hardest part of sharing my story. I am the ONLY person who knew him while he was alive.
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