Some Days

I really fucking hate my life....

For Lorelei

I've been hit hard by grief again these past few weeks and I'm not quite sure whether it's been all the recent news of births and pregnancies, new hope and new beginnings. In my saddest moments as of late the "raison d'etre" of my grief has shifted and taken on a new focus, one that should have been apparent to me all along but has suddenly become quite clear. My beautiful daughter is grieving. Still. Not just for her brother or her "Gramma Beverley" who recently passed away, but for her parents and for being "abandoned" by us when Calvin died. This has become very clear lately in my darlings behaviour, her need for mellowdramatic expression, her "emergencies" and attention seeking, and her in endless need to be reassured of our love for her. The dawning realization that I have failed her as a mother has broken my heart into pieces his past week and has resurfaced some issues and resentments over the way Shane and I were isolated after Calvin's funeral. I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for not being better equiped to deal with my grief AND not just my newborn's needs but my three year old's as well. I'm angry at family who instead of helping maintain a sense of normal for Lorelei when Shane and I were falling apart, turned their backs telling us we needed our "privacy". My girl has a wounded soul and it's taken me this long to realize it. She's preoccupied with a fear of death, terrified that any minor wound or illness may become fatal. She's resentful of the sister who took so much of what little I had left to give when Calvin died. She's prone to fits of histrionics and frequently reverts back to lap sitting and baby talking. In truth her behaviour is so aggravating some days that I was terrified to send her to kindergarten this year, terrified the teacher and other students would reject her. I'm so protective of her that I feel compelled to share what we've been through as a family while inside I'm silently pleading, "Please, please, be kind to her, remember what she's lost". My heart breaks for her....my poor girl. Looking back now, I wish I had called up our friends and family and asked them to take Lorelei for some fun, to show her that although our life was continuing in a different way, that there was still going to be someone she could rely on when mom and dad weren't at our best. I wish they had called and offered to give her some extra attention and love while we were in mourning. I don't know why they didn't. I wish for her sake they had....And now I'm angry and hurt and feeling guilty for what she endured and is STILL enduring because of how our family grief was handled. I wonder at times in my exasperation with her behaviour if she will ever be okay and I wonder if it's right to expect this of her when I'm not sure I will ever be okay myself. And I feel stupid for taking this long to realize just how much my daughter is hurting.

Joy and Sorrow...

Seems like I just can't have one without the other. I'm emotional lately, seems like there are so many beautiful babies , rainbow babies being born in the loss community. And I am joyful, oh so joyful for their safe arrivals into loving arms who have waited an eternity to mother them. These babies and their mothers certainly have a special place in my heart and I have shed many, many tears of joy upon reading of another new arrival. However......with this joy comes an old sorrow, this persistent longing for another babe of my own to cradle in my arms, another chance to smell the delicious scent of newborn skin and hair. I'm feeling sorry for myself in a most pitiful way. Sorry I tied my tubes. Sorry for my age and all the worry that comes with it when one is thinking about conceiving, sorry for my son and my missed opportunity to mother twins. I feel selfish and ugly for feeling these things and I wish to hell I didn't. Because I don't begrudge ANY momma their babies, I just want another one of my OWN. It really stinks, this land of indecision. I can afford IVF now but I'm so very AFRAID of what might happen and what would happen to me in the aftermath of another loss but the calling to be uncomfortable and full of rolling, stretching baby is overwhelming me and I wonder just how on earth they all did it. How do you say goodbye to your precious child and then find the courage and the strength to overcome the fear and sadness to try again. And in some cases, again and again. I wonder if the price I'd pay for this longing would end up being my emotional wellbeing in the end, but then again I don't feel emotionally well NOW. I feel incomplete. I want another baby but I am terrified to take a chance to go through with the steps it will take to get to what I want. What if it fails? What if I produce another child who has a defect that costs him or her their life again? What if I CAN'T get pregnant anymore, even with IVF? The more I try not to think about it and just live my life, the more rainbow babies seem to be arriving....and while I know it's far from true, I feel like I am the ONLY one who has lost a child and then not gone on to have another. I am so very, very torn. And while yes, I am very full of joy for you all, I am at the same time filled with my own sorrow and longing. I miss my son. To this day I miss him with every beat of my heart. Time hasn't healed me, it's merely given me a reprieve in between moments of gutwrenching pain. I think I'm beginning to realize it will probably always be this way although the moments in between will continue to grow further and further apart. This stinks. I wish I could just push it all away and celebrate for you my friends, without that pain twisting in my gut and the echoes in my head of what could have been.....