Sunday, September 6, 2009

The Reality of Loss

The reality of loss is that when you least expect it, the pain will creep in and knock you right back down leaving you stunned and breathless. It leaves you questioning every aspect of your life, haunting doubts and what ifs and painful memories squeezing out any semblance of normalcy you've managed to collect. Mirne and Craig's loss has left me reeling, questioning everything I've tried so hard to believe in since Calvin died. Last night the cork blew off what I had managed to bottle up these past few lonely months and the pain surfaced tenfold. My life has lost any vestige of ordinary that once cloaked me in anonymity. I no longer feel invisible, I feel like I have been painted a shocking putrid yellow that announces my freaky existence to everyone around me, an unacceptable colour that gives me a wide berth and makes me feel shamed. My pain is worn in my eyes, on my face and in my posture. It shows through the lack of care I have regarding my appearence or surroundings. I am shabby and not in a chic way. My heart is hanging in shreds and the mentality that comes with a shredded heart is a skewed version of reality, where simple things become ugly as they are interwoven into the pain of loss. I screamed and bellowed and railed and wept angry unaccepting tears last night as I fully began to see just how warped my thinking and feeling has become. I can't watch movies, or the news, or be in situations where there are baby boys or the joy that comes with expectancy. I am jaded and bitter and without hope for myself and my future and no amount of howling wails or hot tears makes it better. Last night the bitter sting of separation crept into my heart, pain I have kept at bay for awhile now by immersing myself in distractions. All of it. The full force of knock you on your ass oh my God my baby died in my arms and is never coming back and I can't have anymore children and my life fucking hurts so much I want to die some days and fuck why can't I just be normal anymore and smile and go about my day making happy plans for my future . The insanity of swirling pain in my heart as I remember my beautiful boy and question every decision I made regarding his life and whether or not I did the right things for him. The anger that it shouldnt have happened to us after trying so hard and now my life is completely fucked up and I just want to smash somebody's teeth in over how unfair this has been and how my husband has been hurt and lashed out in his own painful ways and how my daughter inappropriately tells random strangers that Calvin died when she's feeling insecure. I feel like I can't breathe because my chest is so tight with these constricting chains that at times I just want to ram my head through window glass so that something else besides my heart hurts. It's been nearly ten months now. Ten months of coping and moving further away from him as my life continues and his does not. Separation anxiety is rearing it's ugly head. It's an unnatural state of being, to be suspended in this hell of being without my child. It goes against nature. All my gutteral instincts tell me to pound the ground and beat my chest and let out loud primal screams as I deal with this uncomprehensible separation. All the socially acceptable dos and don'ts I've been taught keep me in check, murmuring my pain on the occassion and keeping my fucking mouth shut for the most part. Fuck society. Take away that which is most precious to you and be told to live with it. Deal with it. Cope with the pain and the feeling of being a freak everyday because you have this horrible secret inside. Keep it together. Keep it together. I can' life is broken. Oh Calvin, what did we do? My gorgeous, perfect boy. Last night I wished your life undone, that I could go back before you were conceived....before the pain dug out my soul and left me hollow. I'm so sorry for feeling like that, for the selfishness of it all while you lay sleeping in your tiny grave. I just can't do this anymore, I don't know how I can......


  1. It shouldn't have happened to you after trying so hard, it shouldn't have happened to you regardless of that, it just should never have happened.

    Sometimes I think the only way I am coping with all of this is to pretend it never happened, to try not to remember, to wish those little lives that we love so much undone. But that is impossible. We love our children too much to let that happen.

    I don't know sweet Margaret. I really don't. I don't think you made the wrong decisions. You loved Calvin. I think you did the right things for him. You did them with love for your son.

    I'm so sorry. Sometimes it all just feels so fucked up. When it comes back in full force, when you really remember how it all turned out. I know and yet I also know that I can never really understand how it feels for you.

    But we are here, the painted putrid yellow people. We are our own little society. We aren't going to tell you what is acceptable and what is not. Love xo

  2. I am so sorry for your pain Margaret. I too sometimes wish I could go back to last November, before I got pregnant with my girls. Then I would be my old self, not this broken shell of my former self. It just hurts so much to live without them. I am part of the putrid yellow society too and it just sucks. Much Love to you. xx

  3. Mirne's loss has reminded us all of our pain. When our babies die something within us dies too. I am only partially alive and am truthfully not interested in anything. I have no passions and no desires. I just miss Akul so very much. I do not even desire another baby. I want Akul and only him.

  4. Oh Margaret, I wish I could be there with you, and hug you and howl with you and scream at the tops of our lungs. I wish that we could remember our children with joy, that we could sleep at night without fear of death, that we could look forward to our future. But most of all I wish that everyone in our lives would embrace us and protect us and howl with us and remember our children with us. Life sux. Life is fucked. I hope it gets a little bit better.

  5. Margaret,

    I am reeling with you over Mirne and Craig's tragic loss..... life is so unexpectedly cruel. We know just how cruel and sometimes it does feel like it is so difficult to go on (at least in the way we once knew).

    You love Calvin. You did everything a loving, wonderful mommy would do for their child. I am so sorry you are feeling so low. We are 10 months today and it all still feels somewhat surreal....

    I am right with you, my dear. Sending you lots of hugs and strength from Ontario.


  6. Yes, Margaret. A shocking putrid yellow. yes.
    I am so with you throughout this entire post. I wish I had something profound to say, but really-
    Is about all I've got.

  7. Thank you for visiting my blog. We do have an awful lot in common. I'm so sorry about that one.

    I understand and completely get where you are at right now. I'm a little farther down the grief path but I know it well. I have found the happiness coming back and life this year is much better than last. But, I am forever changed. I will never be the same.


  8. i know those times too, so very well, when you can't stand, can't breathe, can't believe. and i don't know if i can take it. i don't know how i come back from those moments. it's all a blur.
    "It's an unnatural state of being, to be suspended in this hell of being without my child. It goes against nature."
    this is something that people who don't know childloss can't see. it's nothing like loosing a parent, friend, lover; it's YOUR CHILD. it's supposed to be an everlasting relationship, your children aren't supposed to die before YOU. but people just don't get that, they don't get our grief.