Reflections…
Even as their birthday approaches, my head is filled with William. The wonders and the what ifs and the guilt for wanting him here and things to be different. I look at them and my whole self swells with love and pride that they are mine. Would they even be here if William had lived? I’m not sure. Very hard to admit and my heart is heavy for thinking it. I love them but with conditions.
I have re - read their birth story, ready to put on the blog in celebration of these little beings but now I’m not sure. Is it really their tale or just more of William? I don’t think I have debriefed, dealt and celebrated their birth. It all happened so quickly.
Somedays, my body, mind and soul still feels as though it is reeling from the devastation of losing a baby, let alone the whirlwind pregnancy and birth, the whole NICU experience of Ivy and Noah. The thought of it makes me feel shaky and anxious. I wonder if this is a natural response to emotions that lie in the pit of you, festering, unresolved. I can only conclude yes. I have not done this before; grieved a dead baby at term. Miscarriage, yes, even late miscarriage, the baby perfectly formed but not this. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would have had to bury my son.
Lately I have gone in search and found blogs on premature birth, confronting it almost, daring it to come to the surface so that I feel something, anything about their nine weeks in the NICU, instead of feeling numb or worse still having a panic attack - the two extremes of the stick. Instead I stumbled across Sweet/Salty and Crib Chronicles. Two women who are confronting their grief head on in beautiful, heartfelt, heartbreaking words. Words, that could have spilled from my own thoughts.
Last night I cried for a very long time. I cried for the first time in ages, for William, for Ivy and Noah, for the other children and all that they have lost, for the women who I have met, who have gone through the same devastation, for my mum, who has had to do this twice over, in a time when grieving was swept underneath that proverbial carpet and I cried because I am so barren when it comes to writing my feelings down somedays and I know, just know that journalling through this blog is some kind of therapy and that the words I write and the words that I read will one day set me free.
Oh,sweetie! You are anything but barren with your feelings! I feel every word of it… I can’t tell you how often I have cried reading something you have written. I think that when we hurt so very deeply, sometimes it just feels numb - because nothing was supposed to feel like this - ever. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and know that others are walking alongside.
Hugs Tiff!
Comment by childlife — November 20, 2007 @ 8:07 am
I’ve not had to walk your path, but I have walked the NICU road and even now.. just gone four years since the girls were born, after a baby lost to miscarriage and another healthy, more than full term baby, and with the girls happy and healthy and here, even after all of that I am STILL dealing with my emotions regarding the girls birth and all that involves. I am beginning to think that I always will be grieving for things I have lost… having a baby is ’supposed to be’ a most joyous wonderful event in your life and when it isn’t, for whatever reason…. that is a hard thing to process.
I look at my girls everyday and can not believe I am so lucky to have them, and then my heart breaks just a little more for all those who have not been as lucky as us….
Sorry to spew forth all this D&M stuff the very first time I comment on your blog, but your words really moved me. *hugs*
Comment by katef — November 20, 2007 @ 2:39 pm
Oh sweetheart!
This post brought me to tears, I am sorry that I can offer no words of wisdom, or anything to make it better.
(((hugs)))
Comment by Veronica — November 20, 2007 @ 4:14 pm
Tears are good. They keep numbness away. Like the other commenters, I cry with you from a distance. I’ve not experienced this, other than through your story.
Comment by Joh — November 20, 2007 @ 5:32 pm
In my somewhat wobbly state at the moment I could easily blub all over this, but I’ll try to be concise.
Your articulation is so powerful and emotional I can feel what I’ll call a ’shadow’ of your experience, that is, although I’ve never had to face the things you have, reading you actually physically hurts in ways I never thought possible from reading the words of a ’stranger’.
You have my very best wishes and even more of my respect.
Comment by Xbox4NappyRash — November 21, 2007 @ 8:12 am
Oh, my baby, how I wish I could take all this on board for you. Just know that I KNOW! xoxoxo
Comment by Mum — November 21, 2007 @ 1:13 pm
You write beautifully and from the heart. Your words touch me. I don’t talk about this period in my life at all. I wanted 6 children and After I had Veronica I wanted them desperately. I miscarried the first time at 8 weeks and was devastated. I later learned that the miscarriage was avoidable and was the result of incompetence on the part of the doctor…
The next miscarriage I was 16 weeks. It was 3 am in the morning, It was horrible and it broke my heart. Shit i am crying now. I couldn’t talk to anyone about how heartbroken I was, as the attitudes towards a miscarriage were extremely dismissive.. It happens for a reason. and its not like a proper pregnancy were phrases I heard a lot.I was told just to get on with my life, “as these things happen you know’
I didn’t want to have sex in case I got pregnant again. I didn’t even want to hug my hubby or kiss him in case he saw that as an invitation…
But I am a very tactile person and my spouse is ‘darn hot’.. and bloody persuasive.. lol
and so eventually I was preggers again… I started to spot at 16 weeks and i think I lost it.. The spouse found me in the veggie garden maniacally digging a new garden bed and generally acting like a loony. I told him I was having another fucking miscarriage and it was all his fucking fault etc etc etc.
He slapped me!
Then he held me until I stopped hitting him. He sent me to bed and made me stay there for nearly 2 weeks..
David is 13 and gorgeous. I look at him and still feel guilty that I gave up on him. The spouse didn’t though.
When we celebrated Veronicas 19th birthday the other day. I did the what if( in my head) and imagined how it would be if I had my babies .. 13..15… 17.. 19.. instead of just 13 and 19.. I am going to post this really fast.. because if I read it back I will delete it..
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