Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Back and Forth

In the interest of being completely honest, trying to document as well as I can just what the hell is happening here, I should probably confess that less than a half hour after my last post, it may have even been minutes, I found myself in a crumple of sobs that not even strong M. could control.

This is how quickly everything changes. Everything shifts.

It started off as a snarky offhand comment (mine) about my body. M. saying, "now why would you say that?" Me saying, "Because it's true." Him asking, "Is that what you are really feeling? Is that what you have been feeling? Are you serious? Why are you doing this to yourself? I can't leave you here alone during the day if I know these are the thoughts you are torturing yourself with."

Floodgates: open.

So, it seems that I am still carrying some a lot of guilt around in here. A lot of "what if...." A lot of feelings that I am sure are absolutely not good for my mental health. After threatening to call my boss and ask her to make me go to work in the office (my response: I'll quit) M. backed off and gave me a challenge. He said anytime that I find myself beginning a sentence with "maybe..." I should just stop. Know that it's pointless. That what's happened has already happened. We can't change it. And that our task now is to keep living. Keep loving. Keep moving forward.

Things calmed down. I calmed down, I should say. The rest of the evening was spent relatively quietly. Crying wears me out, y'all. I did shed a few tears at Gossip Girl (because I heart Chuck Bass and the Rufus-adoption storyline is getting a little close to home) but that's different. Totally different.

Today feels like its going to be an ok day. The pain in my knee is down from an "OWCH!" to an "ouch" when I walk. I got out of bed with minimal dialogue with myself. I have some work projects from yesterday I want to continue. A shower is beckoning.

And I might just change my underwear (just for you ~m~ )

17 comments:

Niki said...

That is the tricky part about grief--you can go from feeling okay (because honestly you won't feel good for a very long time) to feeling absolutely horrible in a second. Almost 11 months later I still don't need much to open my floodgates. I think you have a great plan to fully feel your pain while trying to love and walk forward through the grief journey. I wish you strength as you try to put one wobbly foot in front of the other.

BTW ... thank you for you comment on my blog. People's lack of empathy is something that I never truly understood until I experienced the death of my son. I absolutely despise comments like "I'd die if I lost a child" or "I don't know how I'd go on if my baby died". You are absolutely correct in your interpretation of such statements as being an comparison of our love for our children. My socially acceptable response is always "you will never know what you are capable of until you are thrust into that situation," but I want to simply say "oh yes you love your children much more than I love my son." I think if I said that people would be shocked ... hmm, maybe I'll try it this week?!

Ryan's Mommy said...

M. sounds like a wonderful husband. You are lucky that he's the person going through this with you.

Mrs. Spit said...

The emotional switches will absolutely blindside you. Picture yourself on a raft - you have to go with it.

M is right, everyone one of us can tell you the "maybe" thoughts we have. If I had done this or not done that, but the bottom line is that you went through hell to get those babe's, and you would have done anything *ANYTHING* to keep them.

Do you have access to a support group in your area? Mr. Spit and I found it very helpful. If nothing else, they remind you that you are not alone.

Dani819 said...

Yup- comes out of nowhere, doesn't it? For me, this last time around, it was because I had a friggin' COLD. Just another reminder that I can't trust my body. I have leanred to take the moments where things feel normal as a gift, and to not get too scared or too self-critical when things come crashing down again. Because they will.

M does sound wonderful. An odd thing- my husband, with whom I have many similar-sounding conversations, also seems much more afraid of the contents of my head than I am. I guess it scares me less to know that I think and feel these things about myself and my body because why wouldn't I at this point? I guess I accept that I think all sorts of screwy things about myself these days, while hoping really hard that I won't always think them. And you won't either- I think we'll just trust ourselves more tentatively now.

m said...

I am beyond lucky to have M. I think this every day.

Mrs. Spit, we do have a support group at the hospital. I'm not sure how I would do there. I don't think I "do" groups very well. I wasn't even a very good girl scout for that reason. But you both found it helpful? I may need to contact you privately with some more questions. Thank you, as always for your support and your wise words. I am always in awe of the wonderful words you share with people in your comments...

Dani819, I'm dying to comment on your blog, but you don't have one! Email me, please.

Anonymous said...

YAY for clean undies!!!! =)

And don't make me march down there on my lunch to check on you!!!

Instead, I will obsessively check your blog for new content to make sure you're still there... Your tax dollars at work! LOL

~m~

luna said...

the emotions are so hard to manage. please give yourself that time and space to feel whatever you need to feel. most people say no major decisions should be made right away. thinking of you.

Brenna's Mom said...

The "maybe" thoughts (or "what if's") are something that was all have had. But honestly, if you let yourself go down that road you will never come back. There are so many what ifs and maybes that you will drive yourself crazy and your grief will consume you.

Brenna said...

I was just directed to your blog by a mutual friend of ours, and I have to say how much every word you've written here resonates with me. I was able to update my blog for the first time since last May today--it took me that long to feel up to sharing our boys' story. I think that sharing about your babies and your experience being their mom helps and will continue to help, whether you do it online here or in a group setting. I joined a group offered by our hospital (sounds like you may have something similar available to you) and I've found it to be a real lifeline. It's a place you can go and know that everyone there understands you. You don't have to explain why you're "still" grieving after a certain number of months or years--these are parents who share your grief and know that it never disappears. My heart goes out to you, I wish no one had to go through this kind of pain!

Duck said...

I have never lost a child, and could only imagine the kind of soul crushing pain it must feel like and don't want to compare my experience to yours, but here it is in case it helps.

When I was told that I could never be pregnant I too had a very similar experience with my husband, and I thought I would never feel the same and I would never be happy again, and that life could never be okay, I did not see a way out (so I dedicated my life to working out like an animal - and things got better - yoga and walking and exercising are always the only things that ever make me feel normal and give myself perspective).

K.T. said...

I am sorry for your pain. ((Hugs))

Stacie said...

Our own minds can be so cruel when guilt begins (or tries) to reign.


Hugs to you.

Amy said...

I'm so glad M is worried about what's going on in your mind...the what ifs can be overwhelming, all-consuming, and ultimately don't change anything (not that that's really a deterrent to letting our minds head down that path).

Grief is so unpredictable. Be sure to give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel whenever you feel it.

nancy said...

I just know it's all so normal. I wish there was a way to flash forward a year or so - just so you can see yourself and the way you will evolve. Not that you will EVER get over this, your girls will be in your heart forever, but you'll see yourself how you will be happy way more than the breakdowns.

dana said...

I have nothing to add that these wonderful ladies (and M, of course) haven't already shared...but I hope you're setting the glass down.

Thinking of you.

Heather said...

About the support groups - I didn't think I could do them either, but it really was so helpful to look in someones eyes and know that they were feeling just as I was. It's worth a try. Just make sure to go two or three times before you decide it really isn't for you.

Regarding Nancy's post, I am one year beyond where you are with your grief. The end of December marked one year since my son died. A year does make an amazing difference. It was described to me that in the beginning, all you can see is your dead child(ren), as if they are right in front of your face and everything else is on the periphery. After time, the child(ren) move to the side of your field of vision, always there, but is no longer distracting you from everything else. It's a slow change, but it will happen. And you can't wish to rush through it. The work of grief, and it is work - almost a full time job, cannot be avoided.

I'm a stranger who checks in on you often, both to see how you are doing, and to remind myself of where I have been and how far I have come. Please know that you won't feel like this forever.

Kami said...

My counselor gave me the same advice your husband did. She said, "You know where that train is going (the what if, poor me, my fault, etc.) so just refuse to get on. You have nothing new to discover there."

Hugs to you. Sometimes you just need to keep breathing. Everything else is extra.

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