something's gotta give
va-va-va-voom! do i feel good this morning. last night? top-five.
but it's the best i've felt all week. i haven't been able to write because i've been busy crying.
i understand now what david and deadbabymama were talking about when they told us about taking a year after losing their children before trying to conceive again. i did not get it before. i respected their choices as right for them, but i felt ready to try again this summer, and frankly a bit frantic about avoiding the risk that just kept increasing the longer i waited.
but it was too soon. i'm struggling with connecting with the tadpole. i feel invaded. and the last two weeks have been filled with overwhelming grief for hans.
for the first time ever, the thought crystallized in my fevered brain: i was so sensitive to hans moving, or not moving - enough for a couple of emergency visits to the hospital - and yet i missed it when he died. the evening before we found out he was dead, i was getting a manicure and pedicure. my son was dead inside of me, and i was getting my nails done. it seems so obscene. and then the question came, for justin: does he blame me for not recognizing when something was going wrong?
for the record, he doesn't, and intellectually i understand that i was exhausted from telling nurses that something was wrong and getting eye rolls in return. i didn't know what to think, and i certainly didn't trust my judgment. but that sequence of events keeps playing in my mind.
so does the moment on the ultrasound table when the tech said she couldn't find anything, and i howled, and justin rubbed his face in the ultrasound gel on my stomach. so does the realization that hans would have been doing those things my nephew was doing two weeks ago.
it's all too much on its own, and combined with this new pregnancy - well, something's gotta give, and it's the tadpole that loses. i have 30 weeks, give or take, to get ready for the tadpole. i just don't know how to do it.
but it's the best i've felt all week. i haven't been able to write because i've been busy crying.
i understand now what david and deadbabymama were talking about when they told us about taking a year after losing their children before trying to conceive again. i did not get it before. i respected their choices as right for them, but i felt ready to try again this summer, and frankly a bit frantic about avoiding the risk that just kept increasing the longer i waited.
but it was too soon. i'm struggling with connecting with the tadpole. i feel invaded. and the last two weeks have been filled with overwhelming grief for hans.
for the first time ever, the thought crystallized in my fevered brain: i was so sensitive to hans moving, or not moving - enough for a couple of emergency visits to the hospital - and yet i missed it when he died. the evening before we found out he was dead, i was getting a manicure and pedicure. my son was dead inside of me, and i was getting my nails done. it seems so obscene. and then the question came, for justin: does he blame me for not recognizing when something was going wrong?
for the record, he doesn't, and intellectually i understand that i was exhausted from telling nurses that something was wrong and getting eye rolls in return. i didn't know what to think, and i certainly didn't trust my judgment. but that sequence of events keeps playing in my mind.
so does the moment on the ultrasound table when the tech said she couldn't find anything, and i howled, and justin rubbed his face in the ultrasound gel on my stomach. so does the realization that hans would have been doing those things my nephew was doing two weeks ago.
it's all too much on its own, and combined with this new pregnancy - well, something's gotta give, and it's the tadpole that loses. i have 30 weeks, give or take, to get ready for the tadpole. i just don't know how to do it.
posted by laura at 7:59 AM
5 Comments:
I guess working it out here and putting it into words has got to be a start. 30 weeks suddenly feels like 30 seconds and there is a chance that you will end up closing your eyes, taking a deep breath and running headlong into the Future With The Tadpole regardless of how much 'working through' you do.
Just know you are loved and supported out here in the ether and that in the end that will hopefully count for something:)
I have two theories. Neither of which mean anything, but I'm going to put them out there for you...
1. You don't need to "bond" with a baby in utero. You're bonded already. There is nothing you can do that will eliminate that natural bond. Just because you don't think pretty pink happy thoughts about the new baby every single second doesn't mean you're not bonded. In fact, not "bonding" means the safety of distance. Sometimes your mind needs that to deal with things. I'm sure the tadpole won't suffer because of the quirkiness of your mind.
2. You don't have to choose. Someone very smart once told me that (when I was debating "a baby" or "this baby"). You love BOTH your children. And loving one and missing him doesn't lessen the love you have for the tadpole (and vice versa). The tadpole doesn't lose. S/he is all snuggled up in your belly and that's all s/he really needs right now. It's ok to still love Hans and miss him.
So let the feelings come and go and don't stress about what some feel-good book tells you you should think/feel. You're doing fine.
As for the sequence of events replaying in your mind...you don't want to peek inside my brain either...it's very scary. But I'm afraid there's not much we can do about that but talk about it and know that it doesn't have any power over what is happening to us now. That was the past. And while we can be sad for it and wish things had been different, it has no bearing on where we are headed tomorrow or the next day.
So that's my two (or three) cents worth. I hope it doesn't make things worse...I hope it actually helps in some small way.
((hugs)). You love Tadpole so much, but you can't cut grieving short. It doesn't work like that. You're still an awesome mom to Tadpole, and an awesome mom to Hans. You just have to unravel your feelings so you can feel them.
I wish I was in some place to give you good advice. Unfortunately, I think the best I can do is "muddle through." It seemed like these last 6 months have taken forever, but now they seem to have rushed by. I guess it's just a day by day thing. Some days SUCK and some days are awesome.
Oh Laura I know this is really hard to deal with grief and that there seems no end in sight. May you find the peace you are seeking and a place in your heart for both your babies. This new pregnancy is bound to bring up many issues we are here and loving you and listening.
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