Showing posts with label dealing with loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dealing with loss. Show all posts

Monday, February 17, 2014

The Perfect Gift

I was having a really hard time on Sebastian's birthday. I kept thinking about the little sister who should be there to help celebrate and who wasn't. Rather, I kept reacting to that fact without consciously thinking about it. I didn't realize where my sad mood was coming from, actually, until the early afternoon.

It was Sebastian's birthday, though, so it was easy enough to focus on him. We practiced saying 'two' and answering the question 'how old are you?' We sang happy birthday. It was nice since his birthday was a Thursday and it was a day care day for Joshua so he and I were able to hang out together and it was easy to slip away for a minute whenever I felt too sad to smile.

For dinner, we took him to Applebee's. My boys are like me in many ways, but in this we are completely different: they love being sung to in restaurants on their birthday. It's nice, because it's something special we can do the day of their birthday, rather than just waiting for the weekend to have their party.

While there, my husband told me he has something for me as well. It was a surprise, but also a bit of an off-and-on tradition that he gets me a little something since he considers it my birthday, too, having delivered the boys.

This year, he gave me the perfect, absolutely most beautiful thing he could have given me. A little owl charm for my bracelet. More importantly, a reminder of Analin.



This little charm was exactly what I needed after an emotionally charged day. The thought behind it helped knock me out of the sadness and brought me back to being able to appreciate the day and the memories being made, rather than the ones that couldn't be. A truly perfect gift. <3

Friday, December 6, 2013

A Few Months Is Not Enough

We lost Analin on October 6, 2013.

Weeks ago. Hours ago. Months, even.

But I am not okay.

Surprised? Of course not. Not when I say it like that. It's funny, though, how easily others can forget.

On the Monthday of her passing, my mother emailed me to ask me to do some photo transfers for her.

Photo transfers. On Analin's Monthday.

I turned off my phone to stop the notifications, but guiltily turned it back on and did them a few hours later.

Six weeks after we lost her, I asked my husband to take the boys. I was supposed to take my niece and nephews to swim class, but I cancelled and told everyone I just wanted to be alone. Suddenly they were asking me if I was clinically depressed and suggested strongly I needed to go to counseling.

This may have been partly my fault due to my great desire to remember Analin with as much happiness as possible, to be strong for my boys and to live in the world as a successful, happy person.

But I am broken. Still breaking, in fact. And I am not okay.

For example, there I was on Thanksgiving, hurting so deeply I didn't know where to turn for relief. I began to blame everyone else as the source of my hurting until I realized it was all due to Analin's loss. I had a few apologies to hand out, though not as many as I could have, thankfully. I'm so grateful to a family who is understanding and loves me or the holiday could have gone so much worse.

All of this doesn't mean I am clinically depressed. It doesn't mean I need therapy, though I promise I will go if I need to. (I have started going to a support group once a month.) It just means I had a very painful experience, one that will take more than a lifetime to get over. I will have bad days. I will want to be left alone. I may lash out not knowing why and I will apologize after. I will say no, which I'm sure will come as a shock to many who haven't heard me say it often, if at all.

That last bit may prove beneficial in many ways.

This is going to take time and energy. Some days I'm going to be too tired to fight, to force a different way of thinking on myself. And that's okay. It doesn't mean I'm lost, or depressed-sad, or in danger of hurting myself or others. It just means I'm healing from a wound that reopens every minute, and today is a rough day.

So please, if you know someone else (or me), take all the days to notice how we are acting or feeling before jumping to the conclusion we need more than what we're giving ourselves. Most of the time, we're amazing at knowing what we need for ourselves. Trust us. Love us. Help us on those days we need you the most. And know we will be there for you, too, on the days you need us the most. Because we know this isn't over for you, either.

<3

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Pathology Report

Today was my six week postpartum check up with the doctor. I scored high on the postpartum depression checklist, but not Depression levels, which is good and expected. I'm also checking out to be healthy, healing quickly everywhere except my pelvic bones, which took a beating mid to late pregnancy, so are just taking a bit more time to heal.

The important part of this appointment, however, was the pathology report from the placenta and umbilical cord. There had been an underlying expectation to find clotting as a reason, a result of the Factor V Leiden disorder I have - proteins that can lead to blood clotting in it's carriers.

However, there was nothing. No clots and no other findings that may have shed light on Analin's loss.

I'm so relieved. Relieved that it wasn't something with my body that caused this. I have spoken to many women recently who have lost babies because of something their body did or couldn't do, and I can express my empathy with them, having believed the same. It really is a relief to find out this wasn't the case, that maybe Analin's loss really was just a fluke, maybe moving forward to possibly have more children won't be as difficult knowing she didn't die because of me.

My heart still breaks every day. I expect it always will. But I will continue to look for the brighter side of things. It really is the only way to get through this - to actively work at it, to force a perspective on myself that I don't necessarily feel at the moment. So right now, this is my silver lining, knowing there truly wasn't anything I could have done to save her - no intervention, no medicine that others with this condition have and do use.

Today, it will be enough.

<3