It seems that this logic applies to grief. With Abigail's baptism, then Caleb's birthday so close together, things got really busy. Busy in a good way. And the actual day of Caleb's birthday was great- no tears. Just fun times with friends and family spent remembering a little boy who was very much loved. And the rest of the week continued that way- happy.
And then slowly the sad feeling seeped back in. I tried to ignore it at first (sad-no can't be) then tried denial (sad-who me?) then tried a last ditch attempt to use guilt to keep the sadness away (you have a healthy child, and Caleb is in Heaven-what's there to be sad about?) Alas... it still came. It's so frustrating because this ALWAYS happens and by now I should be used to it, but I'm not. It seems like when the happy times come they just don't last long before things come crashing down again.
Last night I finally succumbed to the sadness in the cake isle at Schnucks Grocery Store. I was there for a support group meeting (yes we meet at a grocery store, more on that later) and I needed to get a cake for Caleb's birthday. Because that's what you do at a pregnancy loss group, you bring a treat to celebrate your baby's birthday. And I hated it. Hated picking out a cake for a boy who won't eat it. Hated not knowing what characters he would want on his cake. Hated not knowing what flavor he wanted. Hated that I was putting about 5 minutes thought into the cake when we had just spent much more time and money on Abigail's baptism cake. So I held the tears back, composed myself and went with brownies. The rest of the night continued to be slowly dominated by the sadness and ended in a all out grief attack when I returned home from the meeting.
It is Friday morning now at 10:15 and Abigail and I are still in pajamas and I have spent the morning crying over Caleb's funeral pictures. So, I guess this is the down part. I know this is a part of grief and I am trying to give myself permission to fall apart. But its still annoying, still feels weak. My hope is that as the days and years move on the up/down roller coaster of emotions won't be as intense. Maybe the happy times will last longer and the sad times will be shorter? For now, I'm just going to keep riding the roller coaster and try to hang on.
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Fear-Revisited
"No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being middy drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want others to be around me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me."C.S. Lewis from A Grief Observed
This week we went to a funeral for a 14 year old boy who died during holy week. A tragic, unexpected death that leaves the parents shocked and numb. And I can't help but feel afraid again. Not so much for myself this time, but I am remembering the feeling of fear that came with Caleb's death and I wonder if this boy's parents are living that fear intensely right now. Fear. I was so afraid in those first few days and weeks after Caleb died. When I picked up C. S. Lewis's book to read A Grief Observed, the words I posted above were the first few paragraphs. And I could instantly relate. Fear. Strange, because like Lewis says, "I was not afraid, but the sensation was like being afraid." I remember one night 2 weeks to the day after Caleb died where I shook with fear. If you had asked me then what I was so afraid of, I couldn't have put words to it. I have never been so scared in my life and my body was conveying that feeling in outward appearances of shaking and wailing. I remember being in the airport on the way back from Florida (where we went the week after he died, to "get away.") and feeling terrified. Again, no reason, just so scared. Almost neurotic watching everyone and feeling so vulnerable.
Fear comes with grief. When the rug has been pulled out from under you and your world comes crashing down, I guess its only natural to feel frightened. It took me a long time not to feel afraid. And even now there are times where the fear rushes back in and consumes me. The gospel story I reflected on during that fearful time was when Peter was walking on the water. He was consumed with fear of the waves. I had always thought Peter must have been weak because he was so afraid of the waves, like it would have been so easy to just keep your eye on Jesus and avoid the storm. My grief has taught me how wrong I was. The waves ARE scary. To not be afraid is not human. Knowing where to go with that fear is the real difference in faith. And where does Peter take his fear? To Jesus.
"But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Matthew 14:30.
"Lord Save Me,"became my prayer in the first few weeks and months. Peter was afraid, who wouldn't be? But he took his fear to Jesus and Jesus did save him from the wind and waves. For all grievers out there know the fear is real, its part of grief. Letting the fear come and then taking it to Jesus is the only way to get through the fear. If you could all please pray for the parents and siblings of the 14 year old boy who passed away. Pray for the couple, their marriage, and for Jesus to help them through any fear they may be experiencing.
This week we went to a funeral for a 14 year old boy who died during holy week. A tragic, unexpected death that leaves the parents shocked and numb. And I can't help but feel afraid again. Not so much for myself this time, but I am remembering the feeling of fear that came with Caleb's death and I wonder if this boy's parents are living that fear intensely right now. Fear. I was so afraid in those first few days and weeks after Caleb died. When I picked up C. S. Lewis's book to read A Grief Observed, the words I posted above were the first few paragraphs. And I could instantly relate. Fear. Strange, because like Lewis says, "I was not afraid, but the sensation was like being afraid." I remember one night 2 weeks to the day after Caleb died where I shook with fear. If you had asked me then what I was so afraid of, I couldn't have put words to it. I have never been so scared in my life and my body was conveying that feeling in outward appearances of shaking and wailing. I remember being in the airport on the way back from Florida (where we went the week after he died, to "get away.") and feeling terrified. Again, no reason, just so scared. Almost neurotic watching everyone and feeling so vulnerable.
Fear comes with grief. When the rug has been pulled out from under you and your world comes crashing down, I guess its only natural to feel frightened. It took me a long time not to feel afraid. And even now there are times where the fear rushes back in and consumes me. The gospel story I reflected on during that fearful time was when Peter was walking on the water. He was consumed with fear of the waves. I had always thought Peter must have been weak because he was so afraid of the waves, like it would have been so easy to just keep your eye on Jesus and avoid the storm. My grief has taught me how wrong I was. The waves ARE scary. To not be afraid is not human. Knowing where to go with that fear is the real difference in faith. And where does Peter take his fear? To Jesus.
"But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Matthew 14:30.
"Lord Save Me,"became my prayer in the first few weeks and months. Peter was afraid, who wouldn't be? But he took his fear to Jesus and Jesus did save him from the wind and waves. For all grievers out there know the fear is real, its part of grief. Letting the fear come and then taking it to Jesus is the only way to get through the fear. If you could all please pray for the parents and siblings of the 14 year old boy who passed away. Pray for the couple, their marriage, and for Jesus to help them through any fear they may be experiencing.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Clinging to the Light
This week has been hard. Holy week. Not the week we lost Caleb according to the calendar, but liturgically the week we lost him. In a way I have two anniversaries to grieve. He was born the Saturday before Palm Sunday. His funeral was that Tuesday- the day of the chrism mass. In the Catholic Church every year the bishop invites all the priests in the diocese to a mass to bless the oils that will be used the upcoming year (things like confirmation, baptism, anointing of the sick). Today its a year later, another chrism mass Tuesday. And I felt compelled to look at the funeral pictures we have. I haven't had the courage to look at them since we got them developed. But today I longed to remember.
And about half way through the pictures (and about a box of Kleenex) I stopped at this picture.
What made we stop was the light from the candle. The blue candle is the Easter candle. We have that candle in our home. I asked for it. I knew the last time it was lit was Caleb's funeral and also knew that at Easter the church would get a new Easter candle. The candle is currently getting part of it melted down to become Abigail's baptismal candle. Its a way for each of our future children to have Caleb's story be a part of their story. I loved this picture because I remember the hope I had when I saw that candle lit. I kept thinking "Lord, I cannot get lost with a candle that big. Everything is so dark, but that candle is big enough to overcome the darkness."
And now a year later- its still dark, but the light does overcome it. April is here whether I like it or not. In 11 days we will light another candle, a tiny one this time and welcome our daughter into the family of God. And while that is so joyful, the pictures say it all. We still lost our son. He's still not coming back any time soon. I think the upcoming anniversary has just made everything seem so permanent, the reality is sinking in that we really lost him. I know not forever, but for now, its too long. Feeling this song today as I keep trying to cling to the light in the darkness, knowing that one day I will be with Caleb again in our Heavenly Home.
And about half way through the pictures (and about a box of Kleenex) I stopped at this picture.
And now a year later- its still dark, but the light does overcome it. April is here whether I like it or not. In 11 days we will light another candle, a tiny one this time and welcome our daughter into the family of God. And while that is so joyful, the pictures say it all. We still lost our son. He's still not coming back any time soon. I think the upcoming anniversary has just made everything seem so permanent, the reality is sinking in that we really lost him. I know not forever, but for now, its too long. Feeling this song today as I keep trying to cling to the light in the darkness, knowing that one day I will be with Caleb again in our Heavenly Home.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Anger
Anger. It's a BIG component of grief. I have never been an angry person, never struggled with anger. I don't think I'd ever even confessed that sin until losing Caleb. I have been so surprised by how much anger is caught up in grief. At first the anger took me by surprise, but not knowing grief, I thought it would be a fleeting thing, something that would pass once the first weeks and month passed. But then it stayed. I struggled with how to see my new self with all the anger I had. Struggled not to call myself a terrible sinner and horrible person. Since I had never experienced such anger before, it was so foreign to me. Like a new house guest that stays and never leaves. I had to get used to the anger, acquainted with it, and learn to live with it.
The thing I have learned with anger from grief is it comes in the most unusual forms. Like little things I am angry about, not just the big picture kind of things. My husband was angry this week because of the diapers. He said he got angry because the diapers we are using for Abigail have been sitting in the nursery for a year, and that made him angry. I too find myself angry about random things. I found myself pondering this morning why Caleb's death has to be labeled "pregnancy loss." It made me angry. Is there any other point in a person's life where they get termed like this? Toddler loss, teenager loss, elderly loss? Nope. Just pregnancy loss. And I get it, but as a mom who had it happen to her, I don't get it at the same time. Caleb lived inside my womb for 38 weeks and 4 days. If he were living outside my womb we would calculate the time like 9 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. Then I get angry about that. I know people would remember a 9 month old had he passed away. I think they wouldn't be as scared to bring his name up, or show his pictures around. Think about how much life a 9 month old has lived. All the developmental changes that take place from birth to 9 months are incredible. And that is how long my Caleb was here, but it gets diminished down to "pregnancy loss." Just makes me angry.
There are things I could go on and on and on about that make me angry these days. But that's not really relevant, nor necessary. The point I am trying to make is that expect anger to be a part of the grieving process. If you know someone who has lost a loved one, expect them to be angry. Expect them to have the anger flare up at the oddest times, for what seems like no reason at all. I am trying to manage my anger. I know that anger can be a form of love. My anger since Caleb died shows my deep love for him and the injustice I feel about all of it. My counselor compares it to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. I am angry because I don't know how else to communicate my sadness, my sorrow- and that's ok. Its just another thing I have to learn to manage. I try to take my anger to God, try not to let it effect my other relationships. I am starting to really accept the anger, make a room for it in my heart and give myself a lot of grace in the trying to handle the anger. I have given up putting time limits on myself and when I will be anger free. I don't think that will ever happen until I am reunited with my son and have him in my arms. I have to let go of the "nice" girl persona that I used to have and be real. I am angry, but it will not dominate me. The emotion of anger can live side by side with the other emotions and that doesn't make me a bad person.
Anger. It's there.It's a part of grief. Don't be scared of it, let it come. That's my two cents on anger.
The thing I have learned with anger from grief is it comes in the most unusual forms. Like little things I am angry about, not just the big picture kind of things. My husband was angry this week because of the diapers. He said he got angry because the diapers we are using for Abigail have been sitting in the nursery for a year, and that made him angry. I too find myself angry about random things. I found myself pondering this morning why Caleb's death has to be labeled "pregnancy loss." It made me angry. Is there any other point in a person's life where they get termed like this? Toddler loss, teenager loss, elderly loss? Nope. Just pregnancy loss. And I get it, but as a mom who had it happen to her, I don't get it at the same time. Caleb lived inside my womb for 38 weeks and 4 days. If he were living outside my womb we would calculate the time like 9 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. Then I get angry about that. I know people would remember a 9 month old had he passed away. I think they wouldn't be as scared to bring his name up, or show his pictures around. Think about how much life a 9 month old has lived. All the developmental changes that take place from birth to 9 months are incredible. And that is how long my Caleb was here, but it gets diminished down to "pregnancy loss." Just makes me angry.
There are things I could go on and on and on about that make me angry these days. But that's not really relevant, nor necessary. The point I am trying to make is that expect anger to be a part of the grieving process. If you know someone who has lost a loved one, expect them to be angry. Expect them to have the anger flare up at the oddest times, for what seems like no reason at all. I am trying to manage my anger. I know that anger can be a form of love. My anger since Caleb died shows my deep love for him and the injustice I feel about all of it. My counselor compares it to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. I am angry because I don't know how else to communicate my sadness, my sorrow- and that's ok. Its just another thing I have to learn to manage. I try to take my anger to God, try not to let it effect my other relationships. I am starting to really accept the anger, make a room for it in my heart and give myself a lot of grace in the trying to handle the anger. I have given up putting time limits on myself and when I will be anger free. I don't think that will ever happen until I am reunited with my son and have him in my arms. I have to let go of the "nice" girl persona that I used to have and be real. I am angry, but it will not dominate me. The emotion of anger can live side by side with the other emotions and that doesn't make me a bad person.
Anger. It's there.It's a part of grief. Don't be scared of it, let it come. That's my two cents on anger.
Monday, March 26, 2012
My Lifeline
Yesterday at mass I was organized enough before hand to remember my Bible. At a Catholic mass the readings are in a book in each pew, but I often like to have my own Bible to read Scripture from. As I was walking into mass, I felt the weight of my Bible in my hands and I flashed backed to last April, May and even some of June. My Bible was my lifeline then. I literally did not go anywhere without it. I took it with me to my 6 week doctors appointment, to the grocery store, out to dinner, to mass, everywhere. And I don't have a small cute Bible. Its somewhat big and bulky and...... I didn't care. I didn't care if people stared at me, I was carrying around the only thing I knew (or at least hoped) could help me.
I needed to feel and hold and see a tangible reminder of God's promises, goodness, and love. Nothing in my life mirrored the things I knew- God was good, He was faithful, and He had a plan. I remember needing my Bible like I needed oxygen, I couldn't breathe without it. And for those first few weeks and then months, I lived and was sustained off of the Word of God. The Holy Spirit led me to verses that spoke exactly to my heart and my situation. For the first time in my life I clung to Scripture in a way I never had before. And it healed me, or at least got me on the road to healing. The words I read from our Lord started to mend my broken heart. They made me feel not alone, like maybe God did care what I was going through, maybe He was still with me and He did have a plan, even if everything around me screamed chaos.
For anyone going through tragedy I recommended saturating yourself in scripture. Let the Holy Spirit speak to you through the words. At that time in my life I didn't even have the capacity to put words together to pray to God. The words I read in Scripture helped me begin to sort things out. I was reminded as I read and re-read stories of faithful others in history that had gone before me. They had trusted God when all signs told them not to. And He was faithful then and I knew He would be faithful again.
In a sense, I miss those days. Life is much, much, much easier these days and not nearly as dark. I have to "make" myself sit down for prayer and to open Scripture. I don't need it as desperately as I then did, don't have as much time as I did then. It was a season of my life, an impossibly hard one, but beautiful in its own way. For all you grievers out there, I hope you are holding onto hope- literally by holding your Bibles and reading and praying them daily, hourly, even minute by minute if you need to.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Grief Resource
In my scouring of the Internet on grief and stillbirth, I came across this blog. It is written by a woman whose fourth child was stillborn. She then went on to help people who have experienced a traumatic death of a loved one. She has also made big strides in the stillbirth community. One of the main things she has done is pass laws in certain states (unfortunately not Illinois) to allow parents to obtain a birth certificate of their stillborn child. It is common practice for babies stillborn to receive a death certificate, but not a birth certificate. I still remember the confusion I felt when I was told Caleb would just have a death certificate, not a birth certificate. I thought "how can you die if you have never been born?" Just another example of the culture of death. Anyways, that's another whole post for a different day. But Dr. Cacciatore is helping grieving parents and others through her wonderful work. Her method for dealing with grief spoke to my heart. She believes in simply sitting with the grieving people, not putting time limits on their grief and when they should move on. She believes in compassion and the idea that walking with someone in grief and just letting them feel what they are feeling is the best way to help them through. She has some interesting stuff and I feel very fortunate to have found her blog. Again, hearing her story and others on her website make me feel normal and I love that feeling.
Here is a video of Dr. Cacciatore's work and progress she has made in the stillbirth community. It is from a few years back, so the quality isn't the best, but still very moving.
Here is a video of Dr. Cacciatore's work and progress she has made in the stillbirth community. It is from a few years back, so the quality isn't the best, but still very moving.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Its all blue
Last night Nathan and I were giving Abigail a bath. He went into the closet to get the nail clippers. He came out with a blue bag that had held the nail clippers. He looked at me and said, "its all blue. This is the part people don't see. Everything is still blue." And he's right. Blue nail clippers, blue bath toys, blue laundry hamper, books about trucks and insects, blue towels and wash clothes and burp rags. Yes, we have changed the clothes out, but the other stuff remains blue. And it's all in perfect condition (something else that stings) so there is no reason not to use it. Just hard little reminders each time. Reminders that steal your joy in the midst of joyful things like giving your newborn daughter a bath. And its tiring. Trying to balance such intense joy with intense sadness feels so opposite and hard to due. I am happy, I am sad. I am looking forward to April and Abigail's baptism and yet I desperately want to skip the whole month of April. I don't want to think about Caleb and all the "should have's" and yet that is all I want to think about. I love her, I miss him. And on and on and on the dance of joy and sorrow go.
The hardest thing lately has been the feeling that I should be planning a first birthday party next month. Instead I have absolutely no idea what to do for April 16th. I don't even know what to call it- a birthday? an anniversary? a Heavenly birthday? Where is the rule book???? It breaks my heart that I have no idea how to "parent" my first born. One of the things I have noticed with grief since Abigail has arrived has been my deep need to parent Caleb in some way. I think seeing how much Abigail needs me and giving so much to her, makes my motherhood search for ways to balance that out with caring for Caleb. The problem is, there aren't many ways to parent him. And so I have found myself grieving for him more intensely. Grief is the main way I can show him love, and it seems that any free moment I have during the day I want to saturate myself with grieving him. I am pulling out his scrapbook more and more and going over the same 15 pictures of him that we have. Listening to the same sad songs I did in the weeks and months after he left. I have found myself searching endlessly on the Internet again for anything on stillbirth. The need for "answers" has come back in full swing and the only way to relieve the need is to throw myself in the world of death. Maybe I feel like I would be a better mom if I found out why it all happened. Truly I think I just want to give him something of me, want to show him that he still matters and I haven't forgotten.
Grief is strange. It comes in waves and seems like just when I think I am making progress beyond a certain phase, bam I am back there again. Many people in grief had said that the second year is actually harder than the first. I suppose its a combination of the shock and numbness from the first year wearing off. And I think that most people expect to be better by the end of the first year. I did, but now I can see that will be far from the case. I still feel so broken, still feel like I have so much to "process" in my head and sort out. If you know someone in grief and they are approaching the year anniversary of losing their loved one, please don't assume they are better. Expect that the next year will be just as hard, if not harder.
The hardest thing lately has been the feeling that I should be planning a first birthday party next month. Instead I have absolutely no idea what to do for April 16th. I don't even know what to call it- a birthday? an anniversary? a Heavenly birthday? Where is the rule book???? It breaks my heart that I have no idea how to "parent" my first born. One of the things I have noticed with grief since Abigail has arrived has been my deep need to parent Caleb in some way. I think seeing how much Abigail needs me and giving so much to her, makes my motherhood search for ways to balance that out with caring for Caleb. The problem is, there aren't many ways to parent him. And so I have found myself grieving for him more intensely. Grief is the main way I can show him love, and it seems that any free moment I have during the day I want to saturate myself with grieving him. I am pulling out his scrapbook more and more and going over the same 15 pictures of him that we have. Listening to the same sad songs I did in the weeks and months after he left. I have found myself searching endlessly on the Internet again for anything on stillbirth. The need for "answers" has come back in full swing and the only way to relieve the need is to throw myself in the world of death. Maybe I feel like I would be a better mom if I found out why it all happened. Truly I think I just want to give him something of me, want to show him that he still matters and I haven't forgotten.
Grief is strange. It comes in waves and seems like just when I think I am making progress beyond a certain phase, bam I am back there again. Many people in grief had said that the second year is actually harder than the first. I suppose its a combination of the shock and numbness from the first year wearing off. And I think that most people expect to be better by the end of the first year. I did, but now I can see that will be far from the case. I still feel so broken, still feel like I have so much to "process" in my head and sort out. If you know someone in grief and they are approaching the year anniversary of losing their loved one, please don't assume they are better. Expect that the next year will be just as hard, if not harder.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Little
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| St. Therese of Lisiuex The "little" way |
The one adjective that has been overpowering these past few days is little. Hearing news of two other babies who are now in Heaven and realizing again how fragile life is-little. Being 1 day away from induction and still talking and re-talking about if we are making the right decision-little. Not knowing if I will be planning a funeral or baptism next week-little. Seeing so many people pray for us and being so held by the Church-little. Not being able to pray or process emotions right now or think or sleep or cook-little.
The anticipation this week has been similar to the week of our wedding. We got married on a Friday and it seemed like it would never come around. But then that Sunday started the week off and things went quickly from there. This week has been the same, only I can't guarantee good will be at the end like I could with our wedding.
I think a lot of it has to do with not only the possibility of having a live baby, but also the possibility of getting a little of myself back. Yesterday I was running errands and ran into a high school friend. She had her two little ones with her and we chatted about Abigail and being induced and how exciting it all was. When she walked away I thought to myself "wow- I did it! I had a conversation with an old friend and it felt good!" For the last 10 months I would have literally hidden in an aisle when I saw people like that coming towards me. What did I have to tell them about? New news? Our baby died, I am sad, and our world is crashing around us. No one likes to hear that. So I hid and it felt so not natural. But I have learned that in grief, since it is so much like being sick, sometimes the isolation is essential to the healing.
So my hope lately has been for Abigail for sure, but also for us. I feel ready to re-enter the land of the living, the thing is I'm just not sure its going to happen. I know everyone has so much hope for Abigail being born alive and well and that the statistics are in our favor. But the truth is no one knows. I have heard dozen of stories and met many women who had their babies die in labor or right after birth, many of them without explanation. Every happy thought that comes my way this week (or the past 9 months) has been lit on the edges of fear. One cannot occur without the other. The hope I have for Abigail being born alive and well is also a hope I have for my healing. I know she will not "fix" things or bring Caleb back or replace him, but she will bring a certain amount of healing, she already has. The thing that terrifies me now is - what if it all goes wrong again? What if this all doesn't help my healing, just breaks me into a million more pieces?
I received an invitation to a wedding shower yesterday and I actually got excited. I haven't been excited to go to a social event since Caleb died. But there I was in my kitchen reading the details and getting so joyful. And then like a tidal wave it all came crashing down and I heard a voice in my head, "yes, but if Abigail dies, you know you can't go. You wouldn't be able to make small talk with strangers just a month after burying your little girl." And I got sad because I knew that was the truth. And I got mad because I couldn't RSVP right then like the old RyAnne would have. I thought "just wait and see if she lives, then make plans." Ugh the poverty in not being able to dream or plan has been so hard.
So, I give this to God. I give my littleness to Him knowing the poverty of spirit He is calling us to live with right now. The uncertainty, the waiting in limbo, the hope/fear roller coaster.
St. Therese was known for being the saint of "the little way." She was a carmelite nun who died young from tuberculosis at age 24. Nathan had a strong devotion to her when we met and I have since become a friend of hers. I mentioned earlier in a post that St. Therese was from a family of 9, where 4 out of the 9 children died, 3 in infancy. Her mother is on her way to canonization and has helped me so much in my grief. You can read more about St. Therese's mom, Zelie, here.
When Nathan and I were courting we entrusted our vocation decision to St. Therese. Then once we found out we were having a girl, we knew her middle name had to be Therese. I am feeling the presence of St. Therese so much this week. Her teachings on how to be "little" and give that to God have been exactly what I needed to hear. In fact, I feel like St. Therese should be the patron of grief because grief requires you to be so little. I used to need God for big things, but in the last 10 months I have needed him just to get out of bed and get dressed. Little things, little prayers, all of it matters to God, all of it is sanctifying if we can offer up our littleness to God.
So on today, one day away from induction, I ask everyone to please pray for us and Abigail and our medical team. We have been made aware (AGAIN) by our doctors just yesterday of all the risks we are going up against by inducing Abigail early. We are scared and feel like there really is no right decision. We also know that God is guiding us and like all things in our faith, we have to first take the step out of the boat towards God. So we will. We will go in tomorrow night at 6 PM and start induction. We will pray that God allows Abigail to come out alive and well. Thank you everyone for everything. Like I said, I have felt so little this week, but been in awe at how the body of Christ continues to carry us.
St. Therese of Lisieux- pray for us!
More tips on how to help a friend through losing her baby
Thought this might help others out there. It is a little lengthy, so read what you have time for!
How to help a friend grieve
How to help a friend grieve
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Seasons
I would never have thought how much the seasons could play into grief. Summer last year was a fog. But then fall came and I was sad. Sad that I could see physically how even nature was moving on. As fall eased into winter I began to feel more comfortable. Finally I felt like Mother Nature was agreeing with me. I have felt so numb and cold and empty since Caleb died that it was nice to look out the window and see a reflection of that in the world. The trees were bare, the ground was frozen and the wind was cold. It gave me permission to stay inside and grieve. Like nature was telling me, its okay, you don't have to pretend to be happy and want to be outside among the living.
And now, here we are on the brink of Spring again. And the emotions are flooding back to me. So many flashbacks of last years Spring. They are divided into two parts- before and after his death. Before when it was just warming up and I was imagining all the long stroller walks I would take once he was here. Before when I wore flip flops each day because I was too big to bend over and put shoes on. Before when I wore the maternity capri pants and went to garage sales and relished in the fact that I was now able to shop for a baby, my sweet baby boy! Then there is the after. The one where I hear the birds chirping and I want to throw rocks at them. The one where I walk out our front door and smell the flowers and see new trees in bloom and want to throw up. The one where I see the sun shining and I want to cover it up. The one where I craved darkness.
All day yesterday the sun was shining and I was mad. Mad because two new families in our church have just lost their babies in the past few days. And the sun is still shining. I felt that same rage and anger that I had last year when I saw the sun shinning all Spring and into Summer. All I wanted to do was pull the shades down over the sun, not so much for my sake right now, but for the families. I wonder if they will feel as betrayed by the seasons as I did last Spring. Spring, all about new life. But what do you do if you are in the middle of death and every ounce of new life feels like a lie? A reminder that even the trees are able to sustain life and somehow you could not?
Don't really know where to end this post, but just sharing my experience of the seasons in regards to grief. It will be interesting to be doing round 2 of the seasons without Caleb coming up in April. Another Spring, but maybe not as painful as the last one.
And now, here we are on the brink of Spring again. And the emotions are flooding back to me. So many flashbacks of last years Spring. They are divided into two parts- before and after his death. Before when it was just warming up and I was imagining all the long stroller walks I would take once he was here. Before when I wore flip flops each day because I was too big to bend over and put shoes on. Before when I wore the maternity capri pants and went to garage sales and relished in the fact that I was now able to shop for a baby, my sweet baby boy! Then there is the after. The one where I hear the birds chirping and I want to throw rocks at them. The one where I walk out our front door and smell the flowers and see new trees in bloom and want to throw up. The one where I see the sun shining and I want to cover it up. The one where I craved darkness.
All day yesterday the sun was shining and I was mad. Mad because two new families in our church have just lost their babies in the past few days. And the sun is still shining. I felt that same rage and anger that I had last year when I saw the sun shinning all Spring and into Summer. All I wanted to do was pull the shades down over the sun, not so much for my sake right now, but for the families. I wonder if they will feel as betrayed by the seasons as I did last Spring. Spring, all about new life. But what do you do if you are in the middle of death and every ounce of new life feels like a lie? A reminder that even the trees are able to sustain life and somehow you could not?
Don't really know where to end this post, but just sharing my experience of the seasons in regards to grief. It will be interesting to be doing round 2 of the seasons without Caleb coming up in April. Another Spring, but maybe not as painful as the last one.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
How to help a grieving friend
Today my heart goes out to two families in our parish who just lost their baby girls last week. Both mothers were in the third trimester from what I gather. I know both families will have many of the same people who helped us grieve Caleb help them in the next days and weeks. I thought it might be helpful to put a link to a series called "How to help your friend grieve" by another mom who has lost a baby. Click here to view these great tips on how to help someone you love grieve. Praying for both families....
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Roller Coaster of Emotions
This is how I was feeling on Thursday when I wrote this:
This ride of grief and subsequent pregnancy has been rough. I often feel like the disciples in the boat when the storm was raging and Jesus was sleeping. So many times have I felt like Jesus was sleeping. Doesn't He know how hard this is? Why won't He make it better, make it go away? I must say that last weekend I had a big breakthrough in prayer which can only be attributed to grace. I finally felt like I had the confidence and desire to trust Jesus again, without willing it. I have felt His presence so much in the last few days. This is different than how I have felt Him in the last 10 months. Right now, I actually want Him here and can say He is leading me and I am not scared. The last 10 months He has been here, but again it felt more like He was sleeping in the boat rather than calming the storm. He is awake and the relief I feel is overwhelming.
So many people are praying for us. I get emails almost every day of another person who is praying. I had a woman an church who I barley know come up to me on Tuesday and ask how I was doing. I told her "ten more days," and immediately she said, "Oh, I am sorry, today must be hard because Caleb died 10 days before he was due." I literally had to hold back the tears. This complete stranger who I have told my story to once before remembered. She didn't try to tell me everything would be fine, she just entered into my fear and comforted me there.
Then I left mass, got in the car and on the Christian radio was a song called "the best is yet to come." I just smiled because only Jesus could know how much that phrase means to me. It was my motto while I was a missionary and I clung to it during my first year in FOCUS when it seemed like God was stripping everything from me. I have wrestled with that phrase since Caleb died because I honestly didn't believe it anymore, but I hoped I would be able to again one day. And this week I can say it and believe it. The best is yet to come.
Another moment came last Saturday night around 2 in the morning. I had had a bad Saturday night including a panic attack while we were out to eat. Overall the whole thing just left me feeling weak, pathetic, and full of anger. I couldn't sleep so I got up to pray. I prayed that the Holy Spirit would speak to me through the Word. I opened up to Baruch 4: 25- 29. This is what it said:
"My child, bear patiently the anger that has come from God upon you.
Your enemies have persecuted you, and you will soon see their destruction.
My pampered child has trodden rough roads, carried off by her enemies like sheep in a raid.
Fear not, my child, call out to God!
He who brought this upon you will remember you.
As your heart has been disposed to stray from God, turn now ten times the more to seek Him.
For He who has brought disaster upon you will, in saving you, bring you back enduring joy."
I couldn't believe those words. There are so many things in that verse that have been on my heart for the last 10 months. It was as if God was saying "I have been with you, you are not alone, I care about everything, even the little things." I am clinging to this verse this week and thankful to have found it.
Lastly, I was at the Family Resource Center yesterday renting the new Catholicism series to keep Nate and I busy this weekend. As I was checking out the lady said "I think there is another DVD you might want. I just feel like I should give it to you." I was curious so I said alright. She then hands me a movie of St. Philip Neri! That is Abigail's saint for this year! Nathan and I have yet to learn anything about Philip Neri so I was beyond excited to watch the movie. What a Holy Spirit moment. She had no idea that he was Abigail's saint and there are literally 100's of DVDs in that store.
I honestly haven't been able to leave my house this week without an encounter with our Lord in some way. I just had to share all the things the Lord is doing in my heart and thank everyone for their prayers. The storm has been raging, but He is awake now. I still am not sure if He will calm the storm or lead me into another one. I just know finally I can say it doesn't matter. He is with me and that is enough.
To all those grieving- hold out for Jesus. The storm is bad, but He is with you, even if He is still sleeping.
Sounds so great, right? And them bam......grief hit. Today is Saturday and I spent all of Friday a complete wreck. We had a sono appointment and it didn't occur to me until we were walking in that it was our last one scheduled before induction. Immediately everything came back- the fact that the last time I even saw Caleb alive was the sono they did of him just one week before he died. All I could think was "Is this the last time I will see Abigail alive?" I wanted to beg the sono lady to record the entire thing on video just in case. So I spent much of the appointment fighting those thought all the while trying so hard to concentrate on what the specialist was telling us. I am so grateful my husband goes with me to each appointment because at this point my mental state is weaning. I can only take in so much of what the doctors say and its nice to have another person there to help remember things. Especially when you see a different doctor every 3 days at this point and hear so many different opinions.
Basically, the doctors have changed plans on us again and decided that we get to make the calls. I do not feel comfortable with this because, well I am not a doctor. Overall, this whole pregnancy I have just felt a lack of anyone wanting to take ownership of our case because they are scared of it. And now, a week away to have the specialist tell you "you decide, its whatever you want," just about pushed me over the edge. I keep thinking ,"the last one DIED inside of me, clearly I should not be left in charge of this one.Someone PLEASE just tell us what to do." Instead they have laid out about 4 different scenarios and left us to choose. So we are trying to sort through things this weekend and pray about it. I feel like Christ when he was sent to Pilot, then Herod, then back to Pilot, then to the people. NO one wanted to take responsibility for him.
So this is grief. One day so good, so hopeful. The next day a complete and I mean COMPLETE mess. I didn't sleep last night at all. Woke Nathan up around 2:00 and had a breakdown begging him to get this baby out because I am convinced I will kill her. This is why I think you should never tell someone in a subsequent pregnancy "rest up, because when the baby comes you won't sleep." See, we don't sleep now, like ever. And what keeps us awake is the real possibility of death, which wears on a person night after night after night. I can honestly say I have felt Abigail move since October and haven't slept a restful night since then. So, maybe we won't sleep once she is here, but we sure aren't sleeping now either.
Please keep praying. Pray that we can figure out the best thing to do. It seems if we keep her in, we run the risk of stillbirth. If we take her out too early she might end up in the NICU and die(small chance, but statistically we have been on the losing side up until this point, so we can't help but see worse case scenarios as the only scenarios for us). Just feels like we are between a rock and a hard place. Here's hoping to a better day with some of the peace I had on Thursday coming back into our lives.........
This ride of grief and subsequent pregnancy has been rough. I often feel like the disciples in the boat when the storm was raging and Jesus was sleeping. So many times have I felt like Jesus was sleeping. Doesn't He know how hard this is? Why won't He make it better, make it go away? I must say that last weekend I had a big breakthrough in prayer which can only be attributed to grace. I finally felt like I had the confidence and desire to trust Jesus again, without willing it. I have felt His presence so much in the last few days. This is different than how I have felt Him in the last 10 months. Right now, I actually want Him here and can say He is leading me and I am not scared. The last 10 months He has been here, but again it felt more like He was sleeping in the boat rather than calming the storm. He is awake and the relief I feel is overwhelming.
So many people are praying for us. I get emails almost every day of another person who is praying. I had a woman an church who I barley know come up to me on Tuesday and ask how I was doing. I told her "ten more days," and immediately she said, "Oh, I am sorry, today must be hard because Caleb died 10 days before he was due." I literally had to hold back the tears. This complete stranger who I have told my story to once before remembered. She didn't try to tell me everything would be fine, she just entered into my fear and comforted me there.
Then I left mass, got in the car and on the Christian radio was a song called "the best is yet to come." I just smiled because only Jesus could know how much that phrase means to me. It was my motto while I was a missionary and I clung to it during my first year in FOCUS when it seemed like God was stripping everything from me. I have wrestled with that phrase since Caleb died because I honestly didn't believe it anymore, but I hoped I would be able to again one day. And this week I can say it and believe it. The best is yet to come.
Another moment came last Saturday night around 2 in the morning. I had had a bad Saturday night including a panic attack while we were out to eat. Overall the whole thing just left me feeling weak, pathetic, and full of anger. I couldn't sleep so I got up to pray. I prayed that the Holy Spirit would speak to me through the Word. I opened up to Baruch 4: 25- 29. This is what it said:
"My child, bear patiently the anger that has come from God upon you.
Your enemies have persecuted you, and you will soon see their destruction.
My pampered child has trodden rough roads, carried off by her enemies like sheep in a raid.
Fear not, my child, call out to God!
He who brought this upon you will remember you.
As your heart has been disposed to stray from God, turn now ten times the more to seek Him.
For He who has brought disaster upon you will, in saving you, bring you back enduring joy."
I couldn't believe those words. There are so many things in that verse that have been on my heart for the last 10 months. It was as if God was saying "I have been with you, you are not alone, I care about everything, even the little things." I am clinging to this verse this week and thankful to have found it.
Lastly, I was at the Family Resource Center yesterday renting the new Catholicism series to keep Nate and I busy this weekend. As I was checking out the lady said "I think there is another DVD you might want. I just feel like I should give it to you." I was curious so I said alright. She then hands me a movie of St. Philip Neri! That is Abigail's saint for this year! Nathan and I have yet to learn anything about Philip Neri so I was beyond excited to watch the movie. What a Holy Spirit moment. She had no idea that he was Abigail's saint and there are literally 100's of DVDs in that store.
I honestly haven't been able to leave my house this week without an encounter with our Lord in some way. I just had to share all the things the Lord is doing in my heart and thank everyone for their prayers. The storm has been raging, but He is awake now. I still am not sure if He will calm the storm or lead me into another one. I just know finally I can say it doesn't matter. He is with me and that is enough.
To all those grieving- hold out for Jesus. The storm is bad, but He is with you, even if He is still sleeping.
Sounds so great, right? And them bam......grief hit. Today is Saturday and I spent all of Friday a complete wreck. We had a sono appointment and it didn't occur to me until we were walking in that it was our last one scheduled before induction. Immediately everything came back- the fact that the last time I even saw Caleb alive was the sono they did of him just one week before he died. All I could think was "Is this the last time I will see Abigail alive?" I wanted to beg the sono lady to record the entire thing on video just in case. So I spent much of the appointment fighting those thought all the while trying so hard to concentrate on what the specialist was telling us. I am so grateful my husband goes with me to each appointment because at this point my mental state is weaning. I can only take in so much of what the doctors say and its nice to have another person there to help remember things. Especially when you see a different doctor every 3 days at this point and hear so many different opinions.
Basically, the doctors have changed plans on us again and decided that we get to make the calls. I do not feel comfortable with this because, well I am not a doctor. Overall, this whole pregnancy I have just felt a lack of anyone wanting to take ownership of our case because they are scared of it. And now, a week away to have the specialist tell you "you decide, its whatever you want," just about pushed me over the edge. I keep thinking ,"the last one DIED inside of me, clearly I should not be left in charge of this one.Someone PLEASE just tell us what to do." Instead they have laid out about 4 different scenarios and left us to choose. So we are trying to sort through things this weekend and pray about it. I feel like Christ when he was sent to Pilot, then Herod, then back to Pilot, then to the people. NO one wanted to take responsibility for him.
So this is grief. One day so good, so hopeful. The next day a complete and I mean COMPLETE mess. I didn't sleep last night at all. Woke Nathan up around 2:00 and had a breakdown begging him to get this baby out because I am convinced I will kill her. This is why I think you should never tell someone in a subsequent pregnancy "rest up, because when the baby comes you won't sleep." See, we don't sleep now, like ever. And what keeps us awake is the real possibility of death, which wears on a person night after night after night. I can honestly say I have felt Abigail move since October and haven't slept a restful night since then. So, maybe we won't sleep once she is here, but we sure aren't sleeping now either.
Please keep praying. Pray that we can figure out the best thing to do. It seems if we keep her in, we run the risk of stillbirth. If we take her out too early she might end up in the NICU and die(small chance, but statistically we have been on the losing side up until this point, so we can't help but see worse case scenarios as the only scenarios for us). Just feels like we are between a rock and a hard place. Here's hoping to a better day with some of the peace I had on Thursday coming back into our lives.........
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
10
10. 10 days away from induction. 10 months since I heard, " I am sorry, he didn't make it." That statement came exactly 10 days before Caleb's due date. Sitting here today, 10 days from the date of when Abigail is supposed to arrive, I am anxious My heart is heavy with these dates and the number 10. It just occurred to me that the dates are lining up. Caleb was due on the 24th but died on the 14th. Abigail is due to be induced on the 24th, and here we are on the 14th. I am fearful. I am scared lightening will strike twice. Everything feels so heavy and dense right now.
This date makes me worry about Abigail. It is also a hard one because it means I have lived longer without Caleb than with him and I don't know how that is possible. The truth is sometimes I get mad. Mad that someone who was only in my life for 9 short months has the ability to completely tear it down and force me to rebuilt it. Mad that he could have such an effect on me. Mad that he isn't here. Mad that in my mind, he is still an infant. Mad that I can't change his photos out in the frames because they never change. Mad that I can't imagine him as anything more. Mad that I don't have a 10 month old right now. That I don't even know what 10 month olds do; I don't have the milestones etched in my brain to even know what he would be doing. I never got to open the book that sits neatly in the nursery Your Baby's First Year, Week by Week.
Dates are hard. The 14th comes EVERY month and it always stings. Then there is the 16th, that also stings and the 19th when we buried him and the 24th when his due date was supposed to be. And by the time I get over all those, a whole new month starts. I am tired of the dates. Tired because our life has no dates as of right now that go past Feb. 24th. We have no plans, nothing on the calendar. It's as if we are planning for everything to stop on the 24th, but we don't exactly know if it will ever start again. 10 more days, 10 months, all of it feels like 10 years...
This date makes me worry about Abigail. It is also a hard one because it means I have lived longer without Caleb than with him and I don't know how that is possible. The truth is sometimes I get mad. Mad that someone who was only in my life for 9 short months has the ability to completely tear it down and force me to rebuilt it. Mad that he could have such an effect on me. Mad that he isn't here. Mad that in my mind, he is still an infant. Mad that I can't change his photos out in the frames because they never change. Mad that I can't imagine him as anything more. Mad that I don't have a 10 month old right now. That I don't even know what 10 month olds do; I don't have the milestones etched in my brain to even know what he would be doing. I never got to open the book that sits neatly in the nursery Your Baby's First Year, Week by Week.
Dates are hard. The 14th comes EVERY month and it always stings. Then there is the 16th, that also stings and the 19th when we buried him and the 24th when his due date was supposed to be. And by the time I get over all those, a whole new month starts. I am tired of the dates. Tired because our life has no dates as of right now that go past Feb. 24th. We have no plans, nothing on the calendar. It's as if we are planning for everything to stop on the 24th, but we don't exactly know if it will ever start again. 10 more days, 10 months, all of it feels like 10 years...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Hoping vs. Planning
One thing I have been reflecting on in this pregnancy is the difference between hoping and planning. After Caleb died, so did the planner in me. This is such a far stretch from who I used to be, but then again I am a new person. So I don't plan, like for anything. I live each moment as it comes. I planned so much with Caleb and then was so disappointed.
The thing that makes the "no planning" hard is when everyone else wants you to plan. We met with the head of labor and delivery this week to talk about our "birth plan" for Abigail and any ways they might be able to accommodate us. The counselor thought this would be a good idea to try to reduce some anxiety. The whole time the lady was talking about what we wanted this experience to be like and things to include or not to include. I kept thinking "why are we planning this when we know it won't happen?" There's confidence for you!
I find it so hard to plan, but the one thing I can do is hope. I was reflecting on this in prayer and realized this is exactly what it was like when I was dating Nathan. We did not plan. We had both been hurt before and knew how it could all end. Nathan was the first relationship where I did not say things like "when we are married," or "our kids," or even "I love you" until we were engaged. We talked about the future, but it was always with some distant far off people in mind, never specific to us and we always kept things very general. We did all of this to guard our hearts. I had given my heart to too many men before and I wanted to make sure Jesus had all of my heart this time, not the boy.
And this was HARD. Because I wanted to plan, I wanted to talk about our possible future non-stop. I wanted guarantees that if we kept dating it would end in marriage and I wouldn't be hurt again. But that is not how God wanted it. He wanted me to have restrain and guard my heart. It says in song of songs 8:4, "Do not arouse, do not stir up love before its time." So I had to do a lot of dying to myself and not plan.
But hope... Boy did I hope! I hoped we would get married. I hoped he was the one. I hoped he would propose to me. I hoped we would have children and watch them grow up. I hoped we would get to pick out a house together and do mundane things like go to the grocery store. The verse I reflected on a lot while dating was "It is good to hope in silence for the saving help of the Lord."(Lamentations 3:26) There were no "plans," but there was a lot of silent hope that I shared with our Lord.
This is exactly where I am with Abigail. Now that we are 15 days away from induction, my hope is starting to burst at the seams. But the planning- no way. I was scarred and wounded too bad when Caleb died. I can honestly say I do not plan to bring a baby home in 2 weeks, I just cannot see it happening. This shows because I have only 3 outfits for Abigail, none of them washed, will not put the car seat in, won't set up the bassinet, won't wash the bottles or bring the breast pump with me to the hospital. I am even hesitant to bring anything to the hospital for her until she is born alive. See I did all that before, I planned and it turned out my plans prepared me in no way for anything I needed once Caleb was born.
The point I am trying to make is, I don't think it's bad to hope instead of plan. I hope to bring a live baby home. I hope to one day hear Abigail's cry and feed her and take of her and watch her grow up. I hope, hope, hope, to do all of those things so badly, but I know they are not guaranteed.
I have clung to the famous doubting Thomas so much during this pregnancy. He gets such a bad reputation as the doubter. Did you know that in the East he is actually known as believing Thomas? The way I look at it, I think Thomas actually loved Jesus more than the others. He gave Jesus his heart and soul and when Jesus died, a BIG part of Thomas died that day too. So when news spread that Jesus was back, Thomas simply couldn't go there. He had been wounded by love. He needed proof because he simply couldn't just throw his heart around again.
And then the famous line that I have repeated so many times these past months, "I will not believe unless I see." I feel so much like Thomas. I will not believe I can birth a live baby and bring her home until I see it. I have been too wounded by love. Jesus knows this and He loves me anyways, just like Thomas. I am sure Thomas hoped the rumors of Jesus being alive were true just like I hope Abigail will be alive. But sometimes you just need to see it.
But then what about Jesus's response, "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." I feel like I have been one of those people too. I did not see my son healed, in fact I held him dead-with no explanation. And I still believe, I am still here following Christ. I have not seen the resurrection, only Good Friday. But I still believe in Jesus, that He is the close to the brokenhearted. I believe that He is faithful. I saw the worst happen and I still believe, which has been the hardest part of all of this- to keep faith even with all the why's floating around. But I still do even though I still need to see. For me its a "both/and" sort of thing.
So hope vs. planning. I would say a lot of grieving people have hope, but not the ability to plan after their loss. Life is so uncertain and you learn that when a tragedy hits. Don't make a grieving person feel bad because they cannot plan the way everyone else around them does. They have been wounded by love and once you are wounded, everything changes.
Join them in their hope. It has been so wonderful to see my friends and family have hope that Abigail will come home. My mom even has so much hope that I think her whole upstairs is filled with girl clothes and pink blankets. Seeing others' hope helps me on those days that I struggle. I even have a sweet friend who sends me a countdown update just about every other day and it makes me smile. Maybe in the end we are all supposed to just have hope anyways. They say that if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. Well I don't have any, Lord, I just hope.
The thing that makes the "no planning" hard is when everyone else wants you to plan. We met with the head of labor and delivery this week to talk about our "birth plan" for Abigail and any ways they might be able to accommodate us. The counselor thought this would be a good idea to try to reduce some anxiety. The whole time the lady was talking about what we wanted this experience to be like and things to include or not to include. I kept thinking "why are we planning this when we know it won't happen?" There's confidence for you!
I find it so hard to plan, but the one thing I can do is hope. I was reflecting on this in prayer and realized this is exactly what it was like when I was dating Nathan. We did not plan. We had both been hurt before and knew how it could all end. Nathan was the first relationship where I did not say things like "when we are married," or "our kids," or even "I love you" until we were engaged. We talked about the future, but it was always with some distant far off people in mind, never specific to us and we always kept things very general. We did all of this to guard our hearts. I had given my heart to too many men before and I wanted to make sure Jesus had all of my heart this time, not the boy.
And this was HARD. Because I wanted to plan, I wanted to talk about our possible future non-stop. I wanted guarantees that if we kept dating it would end in marriage and I wouldn't be hurt again. But that is not how God wanted it. He wanted me to have restrain and guard my heart. It says in song of songs 8:4, "Do not arouse, do not stir up love before its time." So I had to do a lot of dying to myself and not plan.
But hope... Boy did I hope! I hoped we would get married. I hoped he was the one. I hoped he would propose to me. I hoped we would have children and watch them grow up. I hoped we would get to pick out a house together and do mundane things like go to the grocery store. The verse I reflected on a lot while dating was "It is good to hope in silence for the saving help of the Lord."(Lamentations 3:26) There were no "plans," but there was a lot of silent hope that I shared with our Lord.
This is exactly where I am with Abigail. Now that we are 15 days away from induction, my hope is starting to burst at the seams. But the planning- no way. I was scarred and wounded too bad when Caleb died. I can honestly say I do not plan to bring a baby home in 2 weeks, I just cannot see it happening. This shows because I have only 3 outfits for Abigail, none of them washed, will not put the car seat in, won't set up the bassinet, won't wash the bottles or bring the breast pump with me to the hospital. I am even hesitant to bring anything to the hospital for her until she is born alive. See I did all that before, I planned and it turned out my plans prepared me in no way for anything I needed once Caleb was born.
The point I am trying to make is, I don't think it's bad to hope instead of plan. I hope to bring a live baby home. I hope to one day hear Abigail's cry and feed her and take of her and watch her grow up. I hope, hope, hope, to do all of those things so badly, but I know they are not guaranteed.
I have clung to the famous doubting Thomas so much during this pregnancy. He gets such a bad reputation as the doubter. Did you know that in the East he is actually known as believing Thomas? The way I look at it, I think Thomas actually loved Jesus more than the others. He gave Jesus his heart and soul and when Jesus died, a BIG part of Thomas died that day too. So when news spread that Jesus was back, Thomas simply couldn't go there. He had been wounded by love. He needed proof because he simply couldn't just throw his heart around again.
And then the famous line that I have repeated so many times these past months, "I will not believe unless I see." I feel so much like Thomas. I will not believe I can birth a live baby and bring her home until I see it. I have been too wounded by love. Jesus knows this and He loves me anyways, just like Thomas. I am sure Thomas hoped the rumors of Jesus being alive were true just like I hope Abigail will be alive. But sometimes you just need to see it.
But then what about Jesus's response, "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." I feel like I have been one of those people too. I did not see my son healed, in fact I held him dead-with no explanation. And I still believe, I am still here following Christ. I have not seen the resurrection, only Good Friday. But I still believe in Jesus, that He is the close to the brokenhearted. I believe that He is faithful. I saw the worst happen and I still believe, which has been the hardest part of all of this- to keep faith even with all the why's floating around. But I still do even though I still need to see. For me its a "both/and" sort of thing.
So hope vs. planning. I would say a lot of grieving people have hope, but not the ability to plan after their loss. Life is so uncertain and you learn that when a tragedy hits. Don't make a grieving person feel bad because they cannot plan the way everyone else around them does. They have been wounded by love and once you are wounded, everything changes.
Join them in their hope. It has been so wonderful to see my friends and family have hope that Abigail will come home. My mom even has so much hope that I think her whole upstairs is filled with girl clothes and pink blankets. Seeing others' hope helps me on those days that I struggle. I even have a sweet friend who sends me a countdown update just about every other day and it makes me smile. Maybe in the end we are all supposed to just have hope anyways. They say that if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. Well I don't have any, Lord, I just hope.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The universality of grief
One thing that I have become so intrigued by is the fact that grief seems to be universal. I got my first look at this during the summer when we attended a grief share meeting at a local church. I was shocked how similar every one's grief seemed to be, especially the outward effects of grief. It didn't matter if someone had lost their child, spouse, father, mother, brother, sister, whoever. Grief seemed to do similar things to people and everyone could relate to what the other was feeling.
Since become a mom without her baby, I have turned to other babylost mothers through the world of blogging. I am shocked over and over again at how similar our experiences are. These women are from around the world (literally). We all come from different backgrounds with different belief systems and cultural values. But, we all seem to experience the loss of a child in similar ways. I cannot say how many times I have read a fellow mom's blog and been in awe because of the words I have read. It's like these women are reading into my mind and heart. They are feeling exactly what I am feeling.
Right away the first blog I came across was of a mother who had a stillborn son at 39 weeks. Her post here made me feel like I wasn't crazy. I remember in those early months (and still sometimes now) thinking and wondering "did I even have a baby?" Turns out its a common feeling for the babylost moms. Another blog I soon found was of a mother whose baby died during labor. Her post on life sentence was exactly how I felt. I couldn't believe how she nailed everything I was feeling. Losing a child is such a hidden thing but something that effects every part of you. There are days when you feel like it is a life sentence to pain and heartache.
Another mom who I admire lost her baby girl to stillbirth at 39 weeks. Her post on being happy really resonated with me. One of the things I have grieved the most is the loss of happy. I know it will come again, but I don't think it will every be as pure. I desperately miss that happy me, the one who was a "glass half full" kind of gal. Now I am melancholic, quite, inward, reserved. It was good to read her thoughts and know I wasn't alone in grieving the loss of happy. She also writes a great post about where she is 17 months later. I loved this post because it affirmed me that I am normal in my grief and though it will change in the days and month ahead, its not going anywhere anytime soon. She is a great example of learning to walk through the dark valley instead of pretending its not there.
Not only have I been surprised at how similar grief can be, I have also been shocked at how similar pregnancy after a loss can be. The women I meet have the same thoughts as I do, the same fears, the same struggles. One mother from Australia who lost her first baby to stillbirth at 40 weeks has been so insightful in helping me through this pregnancy with Abigail. Her post on holding pattern is EXACTLY how I feel most days. All the emotions, the exhaustion, the anxiety. I read her post and felt instantly like I wasn't crazy.
A new blog I found recently is from a mother who lost her baby boy to stillbirth at 38 weeks. She talks about how "not normal" you are when you are pregnant again. Her Post describes so much of the hardship that is a subsequent pregnancy after a loss. The innocence of pregnancy is gone, even though the outside world has no idea most of the time.
All of these women are random strangers. I have never met them and probably never will. The other night after reading a post I cried and cried. I asked Nathan, "why am I so emotional when it comes to people I have never met? He said what I think I already knew " you do know them." And he is right, even though I don't "know," them, I have lived through what they have and somehow come out the other side. I know what its like to lose your baby before you even get to meet them. Our hearts will always be the same.
Which leads me to the final thought- all of these similarities between grieving people just prove to me more what a loving God we have. Jesus said himself " you will have trouble in the world." He knew it would be hard, knew it would be agonizing and at times impossible. That is why he has written it so intimately on all of our hearts the way we respond to tragedy. He did not want us to grieve alone. What a loving father to give us comfort when we need it most in the form of others.
He also gave us His mother, she is also a mother who has lost her son. I am reading a new book that tells of different saint's visions of Mary at the crucifixion. St. Bernard saw a vision of the crucifixion with Mary standing by and he had this to say "Mary stood there dying, unable to die herself." That line has stuck with me the past week. Its exactly how I have felt these past 9 months. Like I am dying, but I am unable to die. I read his words and thought to myself "Mary is just like us (babylost mothers), she gets me in a way most mothers who have not lost a child just cannot." I take such comfort in Our Lady and her suffering. She has been there constantly to help me navigate through my heart during this difficult time.
So there it is, my epiphany on how similar grief is. I hope you take the time to read the other women's post. They are able to put into words so much better than I can this experience. Also, if you know someone who has had a loss of any kind PLEASE direct them to grief share. It is an excellent program that has a Christian outlook on grief. It's made up of 13 video seminars with a support group. There are many churches around the country that have grief share and they can be found on their website. If you do not know how to help a friend grieving, direct them to grief share where they can be helped.
Since become a mom without her baby, I have turned to other babylost mothers through the world of blogging. I am shocked over and over again at how similar our experiences are. These women are from around the world (literally). We all come from different backgrounds with different belief systems and cultural values. But, we all seem to experience the loss of a child in similar ways. I cannot say how many times I have read a fellow mom's blog and been in awe because of the words I have read. It's like these women are reading into my mind and heart. They are feeling exactly what I am feeling.
Right away the first blog I came across was of a mother who had a stillborn son at 39 weeks. Her post here made me feel like I wasn't crazy. I remember in those early months (and still sometimes now) thinking and wondering "did I even have a baby?" Turns out its a common feeling for the babylost moms. Another blog I soon found was of a mother whose baby died during labor. Her post on life sentence was exactly how I felt. I couldn't believe how she nailed everything I was feeling. Losing a child is such a hidden thing but something that effects every part of you. There are days when you feel like it is a life sentence to pain and heartache.
Another mom who I admire lost her baby girl to stillbirth at 39 weeks. Her post on being happy really resonated with me. One of the things I have grieved the most is the loss of happy. I know it will come again, but I don't think it will every be as pure. I desperately miss that happy me, the one who was a "glass half full" kind of gal. Now I am melancholic, quite, inward, reserved. It was good to read her thoughts and know I wasn't alone in grieving the loss of happy. She also writes a great post about where she is 17 months later. I loved this post because it affirmed me that I am normal in my grief and though it will change in the days and month ahead, its not going anywhere anytime soon. She is a great example of learning to walk through the dark valley instead of pretending its not there.
Not only have I been surprised at how similar grief can be, I have also been shocked at how similar pregnancy after a loss can be. The women I meet have the same thoughts as I do, the same fears, the same struggles. One mother from Australia who lost her first baby to stillbirth at 40 weeks has been so insightful in helping me through this pregnancy with Abigail. Her post on holding pattern is EXACTLY how I feel most days. All the emotions, the exhaustion, the anxiety. I read her post and felt instantly like I wasn't crazy.
Another mom who lost her son during labor talks about the guilt a mother carries with her after a child has died and then in a subsequent pregnancy. Boy can I relate to this! Guilt is a daily companion that I live with and struggle with. It was nice to see I wasn't alone.
A new blog I found recently is from a mother who lost her baby boy to stillbirth at 38 weeks. She talks about how "not normal" you are when you are pregnant again. Her Post describes so much of the hardship that is a subsequent pregnancy after a loss. The innocence of pregnancy is gone, even though the outside world has no idea most of the time.
All of these women are random strangers. I have never met them and probably never will. The other night after reading a post I cried and cried. I asked Nathan, "why am I so emotional when it comes to people I have never met? He said what I think I already knew " you do know them." And he is right, even though I don't "know," them, I have lived through what they have and somehow come out the other side. I know what its like to lose your baby before you even get to meet them. Our hearts will always be the same.
Which leads me to the final thought- all of these similarities between grieving people just prove to me more what a loving God we have. Jesus said himself " you will have trouble in the world." He knew it would be hard, knew it would be agonizing and at times impossible. That is why he has written it so intimately on all of our hearts the way we respond to tragedy. He did not want us to grieve alone. What a loving father to give us comfort when we need it most in the form of others.
He also gave us His mother, she is also a mother who has lost her son. I am reading a new book that tells of different saint's visions of Mary at the crucifixion. St. Bernard saw a vision of the crucifixion with Mary standing by and he had this to say "Mary stood there dying, unable to die herself." That line has stuck with me the past week. Its exactly how I have felt these past 9 months. Like I am dying, but I am unable to die. I read his words and thought to myself "Mary is just like us (babylost mothers), she gets me in a way most mothers who have not lost a child just cannot." I take such comfort in Our Lady and her suffering. She has been there constantly to help me navigate through my heart during this difficult time.
So there it is, my epiphany on how similar grief is. I hope you take the time to read the other women's post. They are able to put into words so much better than I can this experience. Also, if you know someone who has had a loss of any kind PLEASE direct them to grief share. It is an excellent program that has a Christian outlook on grief. It's made up of 13 video seminars with a support group. There are many churches around the country that have grief share and they can be found on their website. If you do not know how to help a friend grieving, direct them to grief share where they can be helped.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Grieving as a Couple
"We are not getting a divorce, no matter what," this is one of the things I remember saying to Nathan as we rode home from that awful doctors visit on April 14th after being told our son had died just 10 days before his due date. I felt compelled to fight for our marriage right away, not knowing what that would even look like.
Since that day I have come to learn that the divorce rate for couples who lose a child is 80%. And the thing is- I totally get it. Marriage is hard enough, now pile on the unnatural death of your child and it becomes nearly impossible. On the upside- it seems that the 20% of people who do not get divorced after their child dies have a bond that is unshakable. I would like to say this is the case with Nathan and I. We are stronger now than we ever have been and I can't imagine going through this with anyone else.
I'd like to share some of the things that have helped us during this journey.
1. Make your needs known. We are not mind readers. As soon as we got home from delivering Caleb, we sat down and had a talk. We both agreed that if one of us was upset and crying then we would leave that person alone, unless they verbally said "I need you to come comfort me." This helped because I was such a wreck that I was crying all the time. I didn't necessarily need Nathan right there next to me all the time. It took the pressure off of him to know when I needed what.
We also made our needs known in other ways. Nathan is an introvert, I am an extrovert. Once he went back to work after Caleb died, when the weekends came, he was spent. However, I had been inside all week mourning our son and trying to just survive that when the weekend came, I needed to get out. So, again we made our needs known. We often say things like "what do you want this weekend or night to look like?" That way we get a feel for what the other is thinking the day will look like. It really is a delicate balance of learning the other's needs then deciding who's need comes first. This sounds easy, but during grief when you feel like you are bleeding to death on a battle field, taking care of someone else's needs is hard to do.
2. Don't compare yourselves, your grief, or your abilities. I struggled so much with thinking there was something wrong with me because I wasn't reacting the way Nathan was. About a month after Caleb died, Nathan's family came back in town to stay with us and help put up a fence in the back yard. I was totally unprepared for how hard having people in the house for the weekend would be. I made it through breakfast Saturday morning and had to go back to the bedroom. I barley emerged all weekend and I felt terrible about it. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't act "normal" and host and help with yard work and act like things were fine. I felt so guilty that Nathan was able to. It was humbling for sure.
Men and women are so different and the grief affects us all differently. Mine has been intense and sudden. Nathan's comes in waves and is spread out over time. I heard somewhere that it takes men about a year after the initial loss of a child to even really start grieving. This makes sense. Right away it would have been bad for us to both be acting like I was. I could not function, but he could. I had to let go of my pride and be humble about letting him take care of me.
Nathan says he feels like we are both in a battle and right now even though we are both wounded, he has to make sure to get me to safety before he can take care of his wounds. So, he does. This summer and into the fall he was the one working, cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, paying bills. I basically just tried to stay alive and live through the fog that had become life.
If you are a grieving wife, I would say let your husband take care of you. It is an opportunity for him to serve you and it won't last forever. Realize that you both were made different. He will be able to go to work and function while you might not be able to. We call this the waffle vs. spaghetti effect. Men are like waffles, they can take something and "waffle it" or file it away in their brains until they need it or have time to deal with it. Women are like spaghetti, the things in their life touch everything else just like spaghetti on a plate- its very messy. Do not think you husband did not love your child as much as you just because he is not crying like you are or doesn't bring them up all the time. Men are not emotional and they deal with things differently. I have seen most of Nathan's grief come out in other ways like little annoyances around the house and dealing with cars and things like that. Little things that need to be fixed seem to throw him over the edge and I know that it is the grief speaking a lot of the time.
We even went away for our anniversary in June and somehow managed to have fun.
I would recommend this for couples grieving. The truth is you cannot talk about your loss all the time- it will make you crazy. You need some "fluff" to get through life. So we tried new things and were able to have something to talk about other than how bad life seemed to be. We both took up new hobbies and tried to continue to drink deeply from life even though all we wanted to do was sleep and stop living. We treated ourselves. During the summer I think we had drinks on our porch almost 2-3 times a week. We just needed to pamper ourselves in a way that we hadn't before. So try new things and be nice to yourselves.
3. Find ways to properly memorialize your child. This is a work in progress and when I say "properly" I don't really even know what that means. All I know is that it's been good for us to memorialize Caleb. We tend to his grave and change the decorations with each season. We set up a memorial table for him this Christmas. We also had a memorial tree of ornaments remembering all the babies we have known who have died since Caleb. This helped us direct our energy and was a good way to still parent Caleb. We got a dog and call her Caleb's puppy. We are currently working on a wall in our bedroom with some mementos of the funeral and pictures to make it a memorial wall. We planted a garden out back in his honor. All of these are little things, but they help. They give us something positive to talk about in regards to Caleb. We can only re-tell the sad story to each other so many times. These memorials give us a way to make his memory live on.
4. Women- find others to talk to. Naturally women are more talkative. While my husband is great and will talk about Caleb any time, I know that my need to bring it up far outweighs his. Especially in those first months, I felt the need to tell and retell and then retell his story over and over again. It was so healing to just be able to say his name. You spend your whole pregnancy talking about your baby and plan to do so the rest of your life. Then after a loss, people are silent and everyone acts like nothing happened. I couldn't handle not talking. Finding good support groups or grief counseling helped so much. Currently I attend a weekly grief support group, a monthly pregnancy loss group, lead a monthly pregnancy loss group myself, and go to bi-weekly counseling. And it all helps- so much. It gives me air to breath and an outlet. Otherwise I think I might suffocate my husband with my need to talk it out. I have had to battle the feeling of weakness because I need all of this and Nathan doesn't. But again, we are different and by me getting the help I need, it makes me a better wife and allows me to serve and love Nathan more.
5. This is another one for the wives. Learn to say no. I have noticed in the 9 months of grieving that it is important to say no ( and as my counselor says- no is a complete sentence). There have been many times when I have been invited to a certain place or situation that I know will be hard for me and painful. At first, I would just go and grit my teeth. What then followed was awful. I would come home, cry, and be down in the pit for 2-3 days. It took a lot of effort on Nathan's part to help get me out of these dark times. Then I began to realize that this wasn't fair to him. Yes, I know there are times that I will breakdown and have whole days where I don't get out of bed. But, if I can try to control or manage those then it is less taxing on him.
So, this has required a lot of giving up things on my part (even those things that would appear "good"). I know certain situations, people, or events that will leave me spent and drag me into the dark pit. I now try to avoid those in order to give Nathan some rest. His time off to rest each week is limited and I don't want him to spend those precious hours tending to a hysterical wife. Now, this doesn't mean it will be that way forever. But for now, I have to stay away from others with babies, avoid situations that I know will be hurtful to me.
It is actually a lot harder than it sounds because me having to say "no" tends to make me look pathetic (at least I feel like it does). Sometimes I feel that people really don't understand why something as simple as bringing a new mom a meal (when I have nothing to do all day) or going to a baby shower is out of the question for me right now. I know if I tried to enter into that it would leave me crying on the bathroom floor for at least a day or two and that's not fair to my husband. When I took my vows I vowed to love him first and get him to Heaven, so really he is my main concern. Putting your husband first by saying no to certain "land minds" can feel weak and be hard, but again it is the greatest thing you could do for your marriage.
6. Put God first. Wow, this is a big one and I left it until the end! Jesus has to be your number one. I believe Nathan and I have been able to heal so much because we don't look to each other to do the healing. Only God can heal us. We both have very different relationships with God and we need Him in different ways. I cannot look to Nathan to give me the answers I need as to why Caleb is gone. I have had to take so many of my questions and heart ache to God. And God can handle it! He can handle my anger, my hurt, my bitterness, jealousy, sadness, all of those emotions. Nathan would collapse if I put that pressure on him to "fix" all of me. Making time to pray (or really just cry to God) is important. I try to give Nathan one night during the week where he can come home and I am gone. This way there is no pressure for him to be "on," as a husband that night. He is free to pray and have alone time which he desperately needs (remember-introvert). He feels refreshed from this and I am happy that I was able to do something productive for him. I also have to make sure to carve out time for prayer. I journal, listen to music, anything to keep coming back to the source of life. I can't say I always want to go to God, but its important for our marriage that I don't lay all of my burdens over the death of our son on my husband.
7.Last but not least- Just try to stay alive. I read this phrase in a grief book shortly after Caleb died and we clung to it! It has been out motto for the past 9 months. It sounds easy, but after a loss living is really the last thing you want to do. "Just trying to stay alive" has meant us lowering the bar on our standards of how our home is run. In the beginning we simply could not keep up with the housework. So, we decided to have only 2 nights a week we would do the dishes, instead of feeling pressured to clean them every night. I must say some days we looked like a frat house, but who cares? We certainly weren't entertaining anyone.
We give each other a lot of grace in regards to the old "normal." We try not to get upset when the grass isn't cut on time or the garbage is missed for the week. We didn't even put up a Christmas tree this year because we both felt we lacked the energy or motivation. Overall, everything is little when you are just trying to stay alive. So don't be afraid to lower your standards for the time being. It won't last forever and in the present moment you need to direct your energy to just trying to stay alive.
These are all just a few things that have helped us as a grieving couple. There is such a temptation to withdraw into yourself during times of grief. Putting work and effort into your marriage during the hard times seems next to impossible, but it is worth it and will make you stronger in the end.
Since that day I have come to learn that the divorce rate for couples who lose a child is 80%. And the thing is- I totally get it. Marriage is hard enough, now pile on the unnatural death of your child and it becomes nearly impossible. On the upside- it seems that the 20% of people who do not get divorced after their child dies have a bond that is unshakable. I would like to say this is the case with Nathan and I. We are stronger now than we ever have been and I can't imagine going through this with anyone else.
I'd like to share some of the things that have helped us during this journey.
1. Make your needs known. We are not mind readers. As soon as we got home from delivering Caleb, we sat down and had a talk. We both agreed that if one of us was upset and crying then we would leave that person alone, unless they verbally said "I need you to come comfort me." This helped because I was such a wreck that I was crying all the time. I didn't necessarily need Nathan right there next to me all the time. It took the pressure off of him to know when I needed what.
We also made our needs known in other ways. Nathan is an introvert, I am an extrovert. Once he went back to work after Caleb died, when the weekends came, he was spent. However, I had been inside all week mourning our son and trying to just survive that when the weekend came, I needed to get out. So, again we made our needs known. We often say things like "what do you want this weekend or night to look like?" That way we get a feel for what the other is thinking the day will look like. It really is a delicate balance of learning the other's needs then deciding who's need comes first. This sounds easy, but during grief when you feel like you are bleeding to death on a battle field, taking care of someone else's needs is hard to do.
2. Don't compare yourselves, your grief, or your abilities. I struggled so much with thinking there was something wrong with me because I wasn't reacting the way Nathan was. About a month after Caleb died, Nathan's family came back in town to stay with us and help put up a fence in the back yard. I was totally unprepared for how hard having people in the house for the weekend would be. I made it through breakfast Saturday morning and had to go back to the bedroom. I barley emerged all weekend and I felt terrible about it. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't act "normal" and host and help with yard work and act like things were fine. I felt so guilty that Nathan was able to. It was humbling for sure.
Men and women are so different and the grief affects us all differently. Mine has been intense and sudden. Nathan's comes in waves and is spread out over time. I heard somewhere that it takes men about a year after the initial loss of a child to even really start grieving. This makes sense. Right away it would have been bad for us to both be acting like I was. I could not function, but he could. I had to let go of my pride and be humble about letting him take care of me.
Nathan says he feels like we are both in a battle and right now even though we are both wounded, he has to make sure to get me to safety before he can take care of his wounds. So, he does. This summer and into the fall he was the one working, cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, paying bills. I basically just tried to stay alive and live through the fog that had become life.
If you are a grieving wife, I would say let your husband take care of you. It is an opportunity for him to serve you and it won't last forever. Realize that you both were made different. He will be able to go to work and function while you might not be able to. We call this the waffle vs. spaghetti effect. Men are like waffles, they can take something and "waffle it" or file it away in their brains until they need it or have time to deal with it. Women are like spaghetti, the things in their life touch everything else just like spaghetti on a plate- its very messy. Do not think you husband did not love your child as much as you just because he is not crying like you are or doesn't bring them up all the time. Men are not emotional and they deal with things differently. I have seen most of Nathan's grief come out in other ways like little annoyances around the house and dealing with cars and things like that. Little things that need to be fixed seem to throw him over the edge and I know that it is the grief speaking a lot of the time.
We even went away for our anniversary in June and somehow managed to have fun.
I would recommend this for couples grieving. The truth is you cannot talk about your loss all the time- it will make you crazy. You need some "fluff" to get through life. So we tried new things and were able to have something to talk about other than how bad life seemed to be. We both took up new hobbies and tried to continue to drink deeply from life even though all we wanted to do was sleep and stop living. We treated ourselves. During the summer I think we had drinks on our porch almost 2-3 times a week. We just needed to pamper ourselves in a way that we hadn't before. So try new things and be nice to yourselves.
3. Find ways to properly memorialize your child. This is a work in progress and when I say "properly" I don't really even know what that means. All I know is that it's been good for us to memorialize Caleb. We tend to his grave and change the decorations with each season. We set up a memorial table for him this Christmas. We also had a memorial tree of ornaments remembering all the babies we have known who have died since Caleb. This helped us direct our energy and was a good way to still parent Caleb. We got a dog and call her Caleb's puppy. We are currently working on a wall in our bedroom with some mementos of the funeral and pictures to make it a memorial wall. We planted a garden out back in his honor. All of these are little things, but they help. They give us something positive to talk about in regards to Caleb. We can only re-tell the sad story to each other so many times. These memorials give us a way to make his memory live on.
4. Women- find others to talk to. Naturally women are more talkative. While my husband is great and will talk about Caleb any time, I know that my need to bring it up far outweighs his. Especially in those first months, I felt the need to tell and retell and then retell his story over and over again. It was so healing to just be able to say his name. You spend your whole pregnancy talking about your baby and plan to do so the rest of your life. Then after a loss, people are silent and everyone acts like nothing happened. I couldn't handle not talking. Finding good support groups or grief counseling helped so much. Currently I attend a weekly grief support group, a monthly pregnancy loss group, lead a monthly pregnancy loss group myself, and go to bi-weekly counseling. And it all helps- so much. It gives me air to breath and an outlet. Otherwise I think I might suffocate my husband with my need to talk it out. I have had to battle the feeling of weakness because I need all of this and Nathan doesn't. But again, we are different and by me getting the help I need, it makes me a better wife and allows me to serve and love Nathan more.
5. This is another one for the wives. Learn to say no. I have noticed in the 9 months of grieving that it is important to say no ( and as my counselor says- no is a complete sentence). There have been many times when I have been invited to a certain place or situation that I know will be hard for me and painful. At first, I would just go and grit my teeth. What then followed was awful. I would come home, cry, and be down in the pit for 2-3 days. It took a lot of effort on Nathan's part to help get me out of these dark times. Then I began to realize that this wasn't fair to him. Yes, I know there are times that I will breakdown and have whole days where I don't get out of bed. But, if I can try to control or manage those then it is less taxing on him.
So, this has required a lot of giving up things on my part (even those things that would appear "good"). I know certain situations, people, or events that will leave me spent and drag me into the dark pit. I now try to avoid those in order to give Nathan some rest. His time off to rest each week is limited and I don't want him to spend those precious hours tending to a hysterical wife. Now, this doesn't mean it will be that way forever. But for now, I have to stay away from others with babies, avoid situations that I know will be hurtful to me.
It is actually a lot harder than it sounds because me having to say "no" tends to make me look pathetic (at least I feel like it does). Sometimes I feel that people really don't understand why something as simple as bringing a new mom a meal (when I have nothing to do all day) or going to a baby shower is out of the question for me right now. I know if I tried to enter into that it would leave me crying on the bathroom floor for at least a day or two and that's not fair to my husband. When I took my vows I vowed to love him first and get him to Heaven, so really he is my main concern. Putting your husband first by saying no to certain "land minds" can feel weak and be hard, but again it is the greatest thing you could do for your marriage.
6. Put God first. Wow, this is a big one and I left it until the end! Jesus has to be your number one. I believe Nathan and I have been able to heal so much because we don't look to each other to do the healing. Only God can heal us. We both have very different relationships with God and we need Him in different ways. I cannot look to Nathan to give me the answers I need as to why Caleb is gone. I have had to take so many of my questions and heart ache to God. And God can handle it! He can handle my anger, my hurt, my bitterness, jealousy, sadness, all of those emotions. Nathan would collapse if I put that pressure on him to "fix" all of me. Making time to pray (or really just cry to God) is important. I try to give Nathan one night during the week where he can come home and I am gone. This way there is no pressure for him to be "on," as a husband that night. He is free to pray and have alone time which he desperately needs (remember-introvert). He feels refreshed from this and I am happy that I was able to do something productive for him. I also have to make sure to carve out time for prayer. I journal, listen to music, anything to keep coming back to the source of life. I can't say I always want to go to God, but its important for our marriage that I don't lay all of my burdens over the death of our son on my husband.
7.Last but not least- Just try to stay alive. I read this phrase in a grief book shortly after Caleb died and we clung to it! It has been out motto for the past 9 months. It sounds easy, but after a loss living is really the last thing you want to do. "Just trying to stay alive" has meant us lowering the bar on our standards of how our home is run. In the beginning we simply could not keep up with the housework. So, we decided to have only 2 nights a week we would do the dishes, instead of feeling pressured to clean them every night. I must say some days we looked like a frat house, but who cares? We certainly weren't entertaining anyone.
We give each other a lot of grace in regards to the old "normal." We try not to get upset when the grass isn't cut on time or the garbage is missed for the week. We didn't even put up a Christmas tree this year because we both felt we lacked the energy or motivation. Overall, everything is little when you are just trying to stay alive. So don't be afraid to lower your standards for the time being. It won't last forever and in the present moment you need to direct your energy to just trying to stay alive.
These are all just a few things that have helped us as a grieving couple. There is such a temptation to withdraw into yourself during times of grief. Putting work and effort into your marriage during the hard times seems next to impossible, but it is worth it and will make you stronger in the end.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Follow up to last post
So I realized after I wrote the last post that I gave everyone the info on what is going on, but not the practical coping mechanisms that are helping me.
Self care is a big one. I am trying to get plenty of rest and pamper myself as much as possible.Sometimes this means longs showers or listening to praise and worship music over and over again. I make sure to have at least one comfort food in our cabinets for stressful times (pop tarts right now!) I try to make simple meals that don't require a lot of ingredients or steps. Usually I make a double batch so that we can freeze it and have it later. Anything I can do to make things easier on us is helpful. Remember- decision making is not our strength right now, so the less we have to make the better.
We made a "not to do" list. This has taken huge pressure off of us as far as maintaing the house goes. So far things like fixing our garage door, making the bed, and other minor things are on this list. I highly recommend this for couples in our position. It takes away the burden of guilt from you over things that really can wait just 5 more weeks.
Distractions! We try to distract ourselves as much as possible. It is hard with a pregnancy after a loss because you are not doing the "usual" things getting a nursery ready or washing clothes or making endless runs to babies R us. So, some days the best way to get through it all is to try to forget it is happening. My husband and I have both bought computer games to play (diner dash for me!). I know it sounds childish, but the relief that comes with just forgetting the stress even for an hour or so can help so much. We have a few shows online that we watch each week. Right now we decided to re-arrange our basement and set up a work bench for him and a craft corner for me. This new project helps distract us on the weekends and gives us something to do. I am also sewing like crazy which is a good distraction. I have found that using my hands helps gets my mind off of things.
Change of scenery- Lately it has been tortuous to try and sleep. Since I know Caleb died sometime while I was sleeping, that time of night becomes such an agony for me. I was really at my wits end and felt like I was going crazy because it was getting to the point of me crying and breaking down at night about how I don't want to go to bed. I would wake up in a panic all through the night and overall just live in terror. I knew I could not do that for the next 5 weeks, so I got the idea to switch things around. Our humanity is so linked with our surroundings and senses. So I got a new nightgown, new pillows and sometimes sleep on the couch. I would really recommend this to women even though it sounds silly. Changing things up makes my humanity realize that this pregnancy is different.
Prayer- this one has been hard and like any time in life when things change, your prayer life has to change as well. I can no longer sit in silence before our Lord for an hour like I used to. I get to anxious and the enemy starts to plant too many seeds of doubt in my mind. I find reading spiritual books hard now because my mind simply cannot take in and process things. So, the rosary is what I have turned to. Again, it uses my hands, requires little to no memory or effort. I like the repetitive nature of it- it seems to soothe me to say the same thing over and over again.
Also, making sure to stay in a state of grace is important. We try to go to mass 6 out of 7 days a week. I have to be honest and say that most days its all I can do to get there. I show up but have no energy to actually participate in the mass. I lean on the community to say the words for me as I follow along in my heart. I usually cry during the whole thing. I beg God for his grace through the Eucharist. I trust that by me just showing up His grace is abundant and will overcome this hard time. Also, going to confession often allows more grace to flow in our lives and gives me the clarity I need right now.
Listening to inspiring talks. I have the radio in our kitchen on a lot to drown out the silence. I have a new found love of 88.5 moody radio. It is a Christian station that has very inspiring preachers during the day and has lots of scripture quoted. Their messages always help me to stay on track. In the first few weeks after Caleb died, I decided to "medicate" myself with God's word one way or another every 4 hours. It could be listening to talks, reading scripture, anything to help me re-focus. I thought every 4 hours was good because that is usually when medicine starts to wear off. It really helped get me through the days until Nate came home and I have found that now I am back to that same old routine. It is so important for me to stay on track with the truth.
Scripture- I have really clung to scripture during this pregnancy. These last few weeks opening up the Bible and trying to find somewhere to start reading seems overwhelming. I find myself constantly going to the psalms for comfort. My favorite one right now is psalm 31(especially verses 9-16). I also read daily psalm 126. I plan on having Abigail's footprint stamped over this verse at the hospital after she is born. It is such a great psalm of hope.
When I can't have the Bible with me, I have a few verses I've memorized to help me get through things. These can help when we are in appointments or when I get anxious. Right now my favorite verses are "The One who gives the call is faithful and He will accomplish it," 1 Thessalonians 5:24. I also like "Very well, see I am on the watch to fulfill my word." Jeremiah 1:12. This last one I just found the other day. God asks Jeremiah what he sees and he says "the watching tree." My footnotes tell me that the almond tree in the Hebrew times was known as the watching tree because it was the first to bloom in Spring as if it hadn't slept and been on watch. I love this imagery because I feel constantly on watch to make sure Abigail is alright and the thought that God is on the watch to fulfill His promises fills me with hope.
Another thing we are doing to try to cope is playing things safe. After 9 months of grief, we have gotten pretty good and knowing how to avoid land mines, not always, but most of the time. Things and events that would drain us or cause us to have to navigate through, we just say no to right now. We need all the energy we have to get through these next few weeks, so keeping things simple is important. We also try to have things to look forward to each week. A simple meal out or a date night can really help make the weeks go by.
Playing with the dog- we just love our Siena! She is such a good distraction because we can take her on walks or to the dog park.
So there is my list of hopefully helpful tips on how to endure the last few weeks of a pregnancy after a loss. Right now my main prayer is that God speed up time! Until February 24th (induction day) though, these things will have to get us through.
Self care is a big one. I am trying to get plenty of rest and pamper myself as much as possible.Sometimes this means longs showers or listening to praise and worship music over and over again. I make sure to have at least one comfort food in our cabinets for stressful times (pop tarts right now!) I try to make simple meals that don't require a lot of ingredients or steps. Usually I make a double batch so that we can freeze it and have it later. Anything I can do to make things easier on us is helpful. Remember- decision making is not our strength right now, so the less we have to make the better.
We made a "not to do" list. This has taken huge pressure off of us as far as maintaing the house goes. So far things like fixing our garage door, making the bed, and other minor things are on this list. I highly recommend this for couples in our position. It takes away the burden of guilt from you over things that really can wait just 5 more weeks.
Distractions! We try to distract ourselves as much as possible. It is hard with a pregnancy after a loss because you are not doing the "usual" things getting a nursery ready or washing clothes or making endless runs to babies R us. So, some days the best way to get through it all is to try to forget it is happening. My husband and I have both bought computer games to play (diner dash for me!). I know it sounds childish, but the relief that comes with just forgetting the stress even for an hour or so can help so much. We have a few shows online that we watch each week. Right now we decided to re-arrange our basement and set up a work bench for him and a craft corner for me. This new project helps distract us on the weekends and gives us something to do. I am also sewing like crazy which is a good distraction. I have found that using my hands helps gets my mind off of things.
Change of scenery- Lately it has been tortuous to try and sleep. Since I know Caleb died sometime while I was sleeping, that time of night becomes such an agony for me. I was really at my wits end and felt like I was going crazy because it was getting to the point of me crying and breaking down at night about how I don't want to go to bed. I would wake up in a panic all through the night and overall just live in terror. I knew I could not do that for the next 5 weeks, so I got the idea to switch things around. Our humanity is so linked with our surroundings and senses. So I got a new nightgown, new pillows and sometimes sleep on the couch. I would really recommend this to women even though it sounds silly. Changing things up makes my humanity realize that this pregnancy is different.
Prayer- this one has been hard and like any time in life when things change, your prayer life has to change as well. I can no longer sit in silence before our Lord for an hour like I used to. I get to anxious and the enemy starts to plant too many seeds of doubt in my mind. I find reading spiritual books hard now because my mind simply cannot take in and process things. So, the rosary is what I have turned to. Again, it uses my hands, requires little to no memory or effort. I like the repetitive nature of it- it seems to soothe me to say the same thing over and over again.
Also, making sure to stay in a state of grace is important. We try to go to mass 6 out of 7 days a week. I have to be honest and say that most days its all I can do to get there. I show up but have no energy to actually participate in the mass. I lean on the community to say the words for me as I follow along in my heart. I usually cry during the whole thing. I beg God for his grace through the Eucharist. I trust that by me just showing up His grace is abundant and will overcome this hard time. Also, going to confession often allows more grace to flow in our lives and gives me the clarity I need right now.
Listening to inspiring talks. I have the radio in our kitchen on a lot to drown out the silence. I have a new found love of 88.5 moody radio. It is a Christian station that has very inspiring preachers during the day and has lots of scripture quoted. Their messages always help me to stay on track. In the first few weeks after Caleb died, I decided to "medicate" myself with God's word one way or another every 4 hours. It could be listening to talks, reading scripture, anything to help me re-focus. I thought every 4 hours was good because that is usually when medicine starts to wear off. It really helped get me through the days until Nate came home and I have found that now I am back to that same old routine. It is so important for me to stay on track with the truth.
Scripture- I have really clung to scripture during this pregnancy. These last few weeks opening up the Bible and trying to find somewhere to start reading seems overwhelming. I find myself constantly going to the psalms for comfort. My favorite one right now is psalm 31(especially verses 9-16). I also read daily psalm 126. I plan on having Abigail's footprint stamped over this verse at the hospital after she is born. It is such a great psalm of hope.
When I can't have the Bible with me, I have a few verses I've memorized to help me get through things. These can help when we are in appointments or when I get anxious. Right now my favorite verses are "The One who gives the call is faithful and He will accomplish it," 1 Thessalonians 5:24. I also like "Very well, see I am on the watch to fulfill my word." Jeremiah 1:12. This last one I just found the other day. God asks Jeremiah what he sees and he says "the watching tree." My footnotes tell me that the almond tree in the Hebrew times was known as the watching tree because it was the first to bloom in Spring as if it hadn't slept and been on watch. I love this imagery because I feel constantly on watch to make sure Abigail is alright and the thought that God is on the watch to fulfill His promises fills me with hope.
Another thing we are doing to try to cope is playing things safe. After 9 months of grief, we have gotten pretty good and knowing how to avoid land mines, not always, but most of the time. Things and events that would drain us or cause us to have to navigate through, we just say no to right now. We need all the energy we have to get through these next few weeks, so keeping things simple is important. We also try to have things to look forward to each week. A simple meal out or a date night can really help make the weeks go by.
Playing with the dog- we just love our Siena! She is such a good distraction because we can take her on walks or to the dog park.
So there is my list of hopefully helpful tips on how to endure the last few weeks of a pregnancy after a loss. Right now my main prayer is that God speed up time! Until February 24th (induction day) though, these things will have to get us through.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Grief woven through the lens of a subsequent pregnancy
My, my, how grief is deceptive. As an outsider to the grieving process I would have always thought that a person in my shoes would be doing "so much better," as she nears the finish line of her subsequent pregnancy. I mean, they are almost there-right? Now she can finally have her baby and be back to "normal." She must be so happy that things are finally turning around and settling down.
This has been anything but the truth of the matter. Both my husband and I have noticed how much worse we have gotten in the past few weeks. To us, it honestly might as well be the first few weeks after Caleb died. Things like cooking, cleaning, showering, making the bed, and paying the bills are all becoming impossibly hard again. My mind is on such an overload with this pregnancy that I feel I have no room in there to focus on anything else. My abilities to make decisions are almost nonexistent right now. I cannot process things and everything, even a simple phone call, feels like it might take me all day to accomplish it. My initiative and motivation are at an all time low. Nothing seems worthwhile or important other than Abigail surviving.
I also have noticed my battle with anxiety is at its worst right now. I can handle being around others in a one on one ratio, any more than that I start to panic on the inside. My counselor compares the anxiety that comes with grief to a sense of everything being out of control. When you have such a sudden loss, your whole world feels out of control and there is nothing you can do about it. So, in order to battle this anxiety, it's important for me to try to regain control of things. Not in a control freak sort of way, more in a "you have to have control of your car if you want it to work properly." So, when there tends to be more than one or two people with me, I get anxious. The conversation could go somewhere I cannot, they could decide against my will to change plans. Grieving people are not flexible. I need plans that are solid and do not fluctuate. This is a far cry from where I was a few months ago when I was finally able to start being a little social again.
Another example of the weirdness of anxiety happened last weekend when Nate and I went to see a movie. As the show began I started to get nervous. I felt "trapped." because I had made a commitment for two hours that required me to be in the same seat. The thoughts started coming "what if Abigial stops moving during this show? How will I tell my husband, I don't want to ruin it for him, but we might need to go to the hospital and wouldn't that ruin everything?" None of these are rational because you can leave the movie at your own free will. Nonetheless, I had to really concentrate on breathing and not having a panic attack just because I had this unsafe, trapped feeling. Weird, I know but it happens when things feel out of my control and the movie felt "out of control," not on my timeline.
One reason I think the grief is so heavy now, is the fact that everything seems to be Deja vu. The times I remember most vividly with Caleb are from weeks 30-38. That is when I had 5 baby showers given for him, had the most appointments, got the nursery ready, washed his clothes, bottles, blankets. Right now it feels like everything is a flashback. I took out a shirt to wear the other day and its one of those"really big only third trimester shirts." I lost my breathe as I remembered the exact last time I had worn it-the day before he died. It's all these little things that makes grief hard right now. In a sense I feel like I am on the set of a horror movie and I know the ending (stillborn baby) but I cannot get out. I feel like I am headed down the train tracks towards emminit doom again. Like I am the lead in a role I never wanted to play and we are doing round two.
I have learned that grief is closely related to your senses. So it makes sense why the seasons being the same as they were with Caleb are hard. It's basically the same timeline as my pregnancy with him and it threatens to mess with my head so much. Everything seems so much the same. When I tell people when we are due they say things like "oh spring is a great time to have a baby, with the weather getting nicer and they days lighter." And all I can think is "you said the exact same thing when I was pregnant with Caleb." Right now to me, anytime you can have a live baby is a good time. Also, everything is going great with Abigail is terms of the pregnancy, which isn't really reassuring at all. I see random aquantinces out and about and they ask "So, things going well?" And I say yes, but really all I can think is "they went well the last time too until the last 9 hours. Abigail has all the "symptoms," that Caleb had- passes every test and sonogram with flying colors, moves enough for perfect kick counts, measuring right on target for growth. So, yes, things are going well, but that is of no consolation for me. Somehow in our world "well" led to us up planning a funeral instead of bringing our baby boy home. "Well" and "perfectly healthy" left us with no answers as to why our first child died, so who's to say that this time it will be different?
Another thing that has been happening lately is my refusal to do or go certain places. I remember exactly all the events leading up to Caleb's death. I remember what we had for dinner that night, the way I did my hair that morning, what I wore, etc. And all of those things are ruined for me now. So, in my mind as a defense mechanism I don't want to do anything for fear tragedy might strike again and ruin things. For example, I am hesitant to go to my favorite restaurants right now because I really like them and if Abigail should die unexpectantly after going there then that restaurant will be ruined forever. Same with seeing movies, going to social events. I just want to stay inside my home where it is safe. We need a coat hanger for our living room and I don't want to buy one right now because if we do and she dies, then I will forever see that coat hanger and think "we bought that just before she died." So many memories are attached to Caleb's death and they have become land minds for us to navigate through once he was gone. I guess in a way I am trying to avoid having so many should the unthinkable happen again.
The point of this post I suppose is really to let others know that people in a subsequent pregnancy need lots of extra care. Especially during the part of their pregnancy when their loss occurred. Ask your friend "how are you doing?" and really listen to the answer. It will probably not be a happy one like normal pregnant women, but try to endure that for her sake. Bring the couple a meal, offer to watch their other children (if they have any), send a card to let them know you are praying for them. Do not assume that they are "doing better" just because they are nearing the end of their pregnancy. Like I said, it has been my experience that during this time, the grief is the heaviest. I don't have the luxury of the numbing power I had after he died to keep me from feeling everything. The anxiety of it all is enough to swallow me whole.
Be gentle with your friends during this period, don't push them to do anything outside of their comfort zone. Invite them to things but realize they probably won't come. Nathan and I are so focused on trying to survive one day at a time right now that things like social obligations or get togethers seems unimportant and trivial. Nothing is carefree right now, and every day it seems like a battle for life and death. Sounds dramatic but the reality is I feel like we are waiting to see if Abigail lives or dies. We will know in 5 weeks and 4 days (who's counting right?) what the outcome will be, but for now we have to sit tight. Similar to those parents who are waiting with their sick children in the NICU wondering if they will live or die. Except, ours looks perfectly normal on the outside, like we are just one happy couple awaiting the biggest blessings of our lives.
Please keep praying for us and any others who are in this situation. Also, pray for those who are not pregnant right now but who would give their right arm to have the kind of anxiety and problems we have. I know many women who have had terrible losses of multiple children who are currently waiting to conceive again or adopt. I am so thankful for Abigail and never want to appear like I am not, just wanting people to know how hard this is.
This has been anything but the truth of the matter. Both my husband and I have noticed how much worse we have gotten in the past few weeks. To us, it honestly might as well be the first few weeks after Caleb died. Things like cooking, cleaning, showering, making the bed, and paying the bills are all becoming impossibly hard again. My mind is on such an overload with this pregnancy that I feel I have no room in there to focus on anything else. My abilities to make decisions are almost nonexistent right now. I cannot process things and everything, even a simple phone call, feels like it might take me all day to accomplish it. My initiative and motivation are at an all time low. Nothing seems worthwhile or important other than Abigail surviving.
I also have noticed my battle with anxiety is at its worst right now. I can handle being around others in a one on one ratio, any more than that I start to panic on the inside. My counselor compares the anxiety that comes with grief to a sense of everything being out of control. When you have such a sudden loss, your whole world feels out of control and there is nothing you can do about it. So, in order to battle this anxiety, it's important for me to try to regain control of things. Not in a control freak sort of way, more in a "you have to have control of your car if you want it to work properly." So, when there tends to be more than one or two people with me, I get anxious. The conversation could go somewhere I cannot, they could decide against my will to change plans. Grieving people are not flexible. I need plans that are solid and do not fluctuate. This is a far cry from where I was a few months ago when I was finally able to start being a little social again.
Another example of the weirdness of anxiety happened last weekend when Nate and I went to see a movie. As the show began I started to get nervous. I felt "trapped." because I had made a commitment for two hours that required me to be in the same seat. The thoughts started coming "what if Abigial stops moving during this show? How will I tell my husband, I don't want to ruin it for him, but we might need to go to the hospital and wouldn't that ruin everything?" None of these are rational because you can leave the movie at your own free will. Nonetheless, I had to really concentrate on breathing and not having a panic attack just because I had this unsafe, trapped feeling. Weird, I know but it happens when things feel out of my control and the movie felt "out of control," not on my timeline.
One reason I think the grief is so heavy now, is the fact that everything seems to be Deja vu. The times I remember most vividly with Caleb are from weeks 30-38. That is when I had 5 baby showers given for him, had the most appointments, got the nursery ready, washed his clothes, bottles, blankets. Right now it feels like everything is a flashback. I took out a shirt to wear the other day and its one of those"really big only third trimester shirts." I lost my breathe as I remembered the exact last time I had worn it-the day before he died. It's all these little things that makes grief hard right now. In a sense I feel like I am on the set of a horror movie and I know the ending (stillborn baby) but I cannot get out. I feel like I am headed down the train tracks towards emminit doom again. Like I am the lead in a role I never wanted to play and we are doing round two.
I have learned that grief is closely related to your senses. So it makes sense why the seasons being the same as they were with Caleb are hard. It's basically the same timeline as my pregnancy with him and it threatens to mess with my head so much. Everything seems so much the same. When I tell people when we are due they say things like "oh spring is a great time to have a baby, with the weather getting nicer and they days lighter." And all I can think is "you said the exact same thing when I was pregnant with Caleb." Right now to me, anytime you can have a live baby is a good time. Also, everything is going great with Abigail is terms of the pregnancy, which isn't really reassuring at all. I see random aquantinces out and about and they ask "So, things going well?" And I say yes, but really all I can think is "they went well the last time too until the last 9 hours. Abigail has all the "symptoms," that Caleb had- passes every test and sonogram with flying colors, moves enough for perfect kick counts, measuring right on target for growth. So, yes, things are going well, but that is of no consolation for me. Somehow in our world "well" led to us up planning a funeral instead of bringing our baby boy home. "Well" and "perfectly healthy" left us with no answers as to why our first child died, so who's to say that this time it will be different?
Another thing that has been happening lately is my refusal to do or go certain places. I remember exactly all the events leading up to Caleb's death. I remember what we had for dinner that night, the way I did my hair that morning, what I wore, etc. And all of those things are ruined for me now. So, in my mind as a defense mechanism I don't want to do anything for fear tragedy might strike again and ruin things. For example, I am hesitant to go to my favorite restaurants right now because I really like them and if Abigail should die unexpectantly after going there then that restaurant will be ruined forever. Same with seeing movies, going to social events. I just want to stay inside my home where it is safe. We need a coat hanger for our living room and I don't want to buy one right now because if we do and she dies, then I will forever see that coat hanger and think "we bought that just before she died." So many memories are attached to Caleb's death and they have become land minds for us to navigate through once he was gone. I guess in a way I am trying to avoid having so many should the unthinkable happen again.
The point of this post I suppose is really to let others know that people in a subsequent pregnancy need lots of extra care. Especially during the part of their pregnancy when their loss occurred. Ask your friend "how are you doing?" and really listen to the answer. It will probably not be a happy one like normal pregnant women, but try to endure that for her sake. Bring the couple a meal, offer to watch their other children (if they have any), send a card to let them know you are praying for them. Do not assume that they are "doing better" just because they are nearing the end of their pregnancy. Like I said, it has been my experience that during this time, the grief is the heaviest. I don't have the luxury of the numbing power I had after he died to keep me from feeling everything. The anxiety of it all is enough to swallow me whole.
Be gentle with your friends during this period, don't push them to do anything outside of their comfort zone. Invite them to things but realize they probably won't come. Nathan and I are so focused on trying to survive one day at a time right now that things like social obligations or get togethers seems unimportant and trivial. Nothing is carefree right now, and every day it seems like a battle for life and death. Sounds dramatic but the reality is I feel like we are waiting to see if Abigail lives or dies. We will know in 5 weeks and 4 days (who's counting right?) what the outcome will be, but for now we have to sit tight. Similar to those parents who are waiting with their sick children in the NICU wondering if they will live or die. Except, ours looks perfectly normal on the outside, like we are just one happy couple awaiting the biggest blessings of our lives.
Please keep praying for us and any others who are in this situation. Also, pray for those who are not pregnant right now but who would give their right arm to have the kind of anxiety and problems we have. I know many women who have had terrible losses of multiple children who are currently waiting to conceive again or adopt. I am so thankful for Abigail and never want to appear like I am not, just wanting people to know how hard this is.
Friday, January 13, 2012
My companions on this journey
One thing I have come to appreciate so much about the Catholic Church is her teaching on the saints, especially during grief. The universal Church with her saints has come through many times. Allow me to introduce you to the women who have helped me on this journey, women whom I have never met but because of the communion of saints I have come to know. I feel closer to these women most days than I do most of my friends and family here on Earth.
Mother Mary. Ok, obvious one, but truly she has helped me so much. I never had a strong devotion to Mary and growing up always felt like I just didn't "get" her. After burying Caleb I found such comfort in the statue of the pieta where Mary is holding her dead son. Mary and I could now relate on a whole new level and it has been immensely healing. One of the things I struggle with constantly is guilt. I ask myself over and over again "What kind of mother stands by and does nothing while her child dies?" Because even though the doctors and friends and family say it wasn't my fault, it sure feels like it. It feels like I stood by and let Caleb die without trying to intervene in some way. When I brought this question to Mary in prayer, she answered "I am that kind of mother." She stood by and did not intervene while her son died. She knew it was the Father's will and therefore let it be. This helped me so much and I was finally able to let some of the guilt go, knowing she had done the same thing.
Hannah from the Old Testament. Hannah longed for a child of her own after years of infertility. I prayed to her often when we were trying to conceive Caleb. Hannah pours her heart out to the Lord and begs Him for a child. God hears her prayers and she gives birth to a baby boy named Samuel. Hannah's famous line is "For this child I prayed." I loved that quote so much that we ordered a decal of it and put it as the center piece in our nursery. After finding out Caleb had died and waiting for him to be born, I re-read Hannah's story while in the hospital. I almost shut the book when I re-read my favorite verse. The whole verse states " For this child I prayed, and now I in turn give him back to the Lord." She gave him back! Literally she took him to the temple after she had weened him and left him there to become a priest. My heart ached for my son, but I knew like Hannah that I had to give him back to the Lord. I found consolation knowing that scripture tells us the Lord favored Hannah so much that he blessed her with more children.
The divine part of all of this just keeps going on. So, I feel like Hannah because we cant get pregnant and I relate to her on that level. Then we both have sons whom we have to give back to the Lord. Then we go on to have more children. We chose Abigail for the name of our little girl because of Abigail in the old testament. You can find her story in 1 Samuel 25. Almost the whole chapter is dedicated to this heroic woman. The crazy part is that one tiny paragraph at the beginning is dedicated to someone else- Samuel! Hannah's son! The first part of the chapter speaks on Samuel's death. Again when I re-read this the other day I almost threw my Bible down. Samuel dies, then Abigail comes into the picture. Caleb dies then Abigail comes into the picture. I know it might just sound like I am trying to put these thoughts together but truly I feel Hannah is with me, showing me the story of her son and letting me relate it to the story of my family.
Saint Elizabeth Ann Seaton- She was the first American born saint. She was a mother and then a widow and then started a religious order and founded many Catholic schools. What I love about this woman is that she became a saint even through her fear. The story goes that St. Elizabeth lost a few of her children to disease. After losing them it was known that she could not say the "Our Father" because the part where it says "your will be done," was too hard for her. She couldn't say it because she was terrified of loosing another child. WOW! And she still became a saint. This helps me so much on days where the fear is too big for me and the idea of doing God's will sends me into panic thinking about burying another child.
Blessed Zelie Martin- This women is not canonized a saint yet but is on her way. She was the mother of one of the greatest saints of our Church, St. Therese. I am not lying when I say that Zelie came to live with me this summer. I felt her presence so much and I devoured every book I could about her.
Zelie gave birth to 9 children. Her heart longed to have a son so she could raise him to become a priest and offer that back to our Lord. Her first little boy came, Joseph, and only lived 3 months. This was the first child she would have to bury. Then, miracle of all miracles, she gave birth to another boy. This son, also named Joseph, only lived a few months as well. So here she is, this long awaited prayer finally being answered in two sons, only to lay them in the grave. Zelie said that the grief of losing Helene was enough to kill her. But, on she went and she was faithful. She said over and over again that we cannot expect happiness here on Earth, only in Heaven.
Her 8th child, Therese, was a beautiful baby girl. However, Zelie had gotten breast cancer at this point in her life and could not breast feed the baby girl. There were no wet nurses in the town and Zelie held Therese in her arms as she watched her child die of starvation. Ok- seriously! By this point I would have given up faith altogether. But she didn't and in fact she kept her courage. While others thought her and her husband were CRAZY to have another child, they did. After burying 4 children (it is said that Zelie made sure she laid each child in the coffin herself), Zelie gave birth to her 9th child, Therese. This was to be her crowning jewel. This child was to become St. Therese of the child Jesus, doctor of the Church. Through St. Therese's intercession countless men have been led to the priesthood, more than Zelie could have ever dreamed of! God had such a bigger vision for Zelie's life than she even knew.
Zelie has helped me so much, not only with losing Caleb, but also with having Abigail. She writes a lot of the agonies of having a child after a loss. How the anxiety of it all is enough to kill you. I find comfort being able to relate to her. We chose Abigail's middle name after St. Therese, but also after Zelie's 8th child, Therese, who died of starvation. The child no one knows about and who is mostly forgotten but through her death gave way for her sister, St. Therese, to be born. I promised Zelie I would always remember her children, especially the ones who died so young.
Lastly, there is good ol' St. Monica. This was a mother who knew suffering. Her son, Augustine, was a terrible sinner. She prayed day and night that her son who was lost would come back to God. The thing that I love most about St. Monica is the fact that really she didn't do anything special, except pray and cry. She was known to shed so many tears over her son that the priests and bishops she went to for advice would see and hear her coming because of her obsessive tears and wailing.
Today, whenever there is a statue of St. Monica she is always holding a handkerchief because that is her symbol. How beautiful that she was so messy! I have cried so much and most days, especially in church, I just cannot seem to get it together. I always think of good ol' Monica and her crying with her handkerchief. All those tears and prayers to God eventually changed her son's heart. Augustine had a radical conversion back to our Lord and became one of the greatest saints and doctors of the Church.
The extra cool thing about St. Monica and St. Augustine just happened to me recently. Each January my husband and I pick saints out of a box filled with saints names, to pray to for the following year. Well I went first and got St. Monica. "Perfect," I thought because I knew how much I would need her through my tears. Well then Nathan went next and picked for Caleb (so that he could have a buddy in Heaven). And guess what- he drew St. Augustine! This made me cry! I could not believe it and felt so held by the saints. I mean I know we believe in Heaven and the communion of Saints and all that, but sometimes it is hard to see the realness of it all. That night I saw it. St. Monica and St. Augustine, me and Caleb. I am not calling myself a saint by any means, but the mother/son relationship these two had was incredible and it gave me comfort to know my little boy loves me that way, like he hasn't forgotten about me. Nathan picked St. Joseph, which fits him completely, and Abigail got St. Phillip Neri. Not too sure what will come of that one, but we will wait and see.
So, these have been my companions. So many times I have not been able to run to God in all of this. I am scared of Him, I doubt Him, I do not trust Him the way I used to. We have a rough relationship right now but are working on it. However, during these times I have leaned on the saints to show me their examples of choosing hope even through suffering. I have felt so close to these women and know that they are walking right along side me, even if I cannot physically see them. I will be forever grateful to be Catholic and to have the communion of Saints. I long for Heaven when I will see these women face to face and we can all catch up and share our stories of serving the Lord.
St.Monica, Hannah, St. Elizabeth Ann Seaton, Blessed Zelie Martin, and Mother Mary- Pray for us!
Mother Mary. Ok, obvious one, but truly she has helped me so much. I never had a strong devotion to Mary and growing up always felt like I just didn't "get" her. After burying Caleb I found such comfort in the statue of the pieta where Mary is holding her dead son. Mary and I could now relate on a whole new level and it has been immensely healing. One of the things I struggle with constantly is guilt. I ask myself over and over again "What kind of mother stands by and does nothing while her child dies?" Because even though the doctors and friends and family say it wasn't my fault, it sure feels like it. It feels like I stood by and let Caleb die without trying to intervene in some way. When I brought this question to Mary in prayer, she answered "I am that kind of mother." She stood by and did not intervene while her son died. She knew it was the Father's will and therefore let it be. This helped me so much and I was finally able to let some of the guilt go, knowing she had done the same thing.
Hannah from the Old Testament. Hannah longed for a child of her own after years of infertility. I prayed to her often when we were trying to conceive Caleb. Hannah pours her heart out to the Lord and begs Him for a child. God hears her prayers and she gives birth to a baby boy named Samuel. Hannah's famous line is "For this child I prayed." I loved that quote so much that we ordered a decal of it and put it as the center piece in our nursery. After finding out Caleb had died and waiting for him to be born, I re-read Hannah's story while in the hospital. I almost shut the book when I re-read my favorite verse. The whole verse states " For this child I prayed, and now I in turn give him back to the Lord." She gave him back! Literally she took him to the temple after she had weened him and left him there to become a priest. My heart ached for my son, but I knew like Hannah that I had to give him back to the Lord. I found consolation knowing that scripture tells us the Lord favored Hannah so much that he blessed her with more children.
The divine part of all of this just keeps going on. So, I feel like Hannah because we cant get pregnant and I relate to her on that level. Then we both have sons whom we have to give back to the Lord. Then we go on to have more children. We chose Abigail for the name of our little girl because of Abigail in the old testament. You can find her story in 1 Samuel 25. Almost the whole chapter is dedicated to this heroic woman. The crazy part is that one tiny paragraph at the beginning is dedicated to someone else- Samuel! Hannah's son! The first part of the chapter speaks on Samuel's death. Again when I re-read this the other day I almost threw my Bible down. Samuel dies, then Abigail comes into the picture. Caleb dies then Abigail comes into the picture. I know it might just sound like I am trying to put these thoughts together but truly I feel Hannah is with me, showing me the story of her son and letting me relate it to the story of my family.
Saint Elizabeth Ann Seaton- She was the first American born saint. She was a mother and then a widow and then started a religious order and founded many Catholic schools. What I love about this woman is that she became a saint even through her fear. The story goes that St. Elizabeth lost a few of her children to disease. After losing them it was known that she could not say the "Our Father" because the part where it says "your will be done," was too hard for her. She couldn't say it because she was terrified of loosing another child. WOW! And she still became a saint. This helps me so much on days where the fear is too big for me and the idea of doing God's will sends me into panic thinking about burying another child.
Blessed Zelie Martin- This women is not canonized a saint yet but is on her way. She was the mother of one of the greatest saints of our Church, St. Therese. I am not lying when I say that Zelie came to live with me this summer. I felt her presence so much and I devoured every book I could about her.
Zelie gave birth to 9 children. Her heart longed to have a son so she could raise him to become a priest and offer that back to our Lord. Her first little boy came, Joseph, and only lived 3 months. This was the first child she would have to bury. Then, miracle of all miracles, she gave birth to another boy. This son, also named Joseph, only lived a few months as well. So here she is, this long awaited prayer finally being answered in two sons, only to lay them in the grave. Zelie said that the grief of losing Helene was enough to kill her. But, on she went and she was faithful. She said over and over again that we cannot expect happiness here on Earth, only in Heaven.
Her 8th child, Therese, was a beautiful baby girl. However, Zelie had gotten breast cancer at this point in her life and could not breast feed the baby girl. There were no wet nurses in the town and Zelie held Therese in her arms as she watched her child die of starvation. Ok- seriously! By this point I would have given up faith altogether. But she didn't and in fact she kept her courage. While others thought her and her husband were CRAZY to have another child, they did. After burying 4 children (it is said that Zelie made sure she laid each child in the coffin herself), Zelie gave birth to her 9th child, Therese. This was to be her crowning jewel. This child was to become St. Therese of the child Jesus, doctor of the Church. Through St. Therese's intercession countless men have been led to the priesthood, more than Zelie could have ever dreamed of! God had such a bigger vision for Zelie's life than she even knew.
Zelie has helped me so much, not only with losing Caleb, but also with having Abigail. She writes a lot of the agonies of having a child after a loss. How the anxiety of it all is enough to kill you. I find comfort being able to relate to her. We chose Abigail's middle name after St. Therese, but also after Zelie's 8th child, Therese, who died of starvation. The child no one knows about and who is mostly forgotten but through her death gave way for her sister, St. Therese, to be born. I promised Zelie I would always remember her children, especially the ones who died so young.
Lastly, there is good ol' St. Monica. This was a mother who knew suffering. Her son, Augustine, was a terrible sinner. She prayed day and night that her son who was lost would come back to God. The thing that I love most about St. Monica is the fact that really she didn't do anything special, except pray and cry. She was known to shed so many tears over her son that the priests and bishops she went to for advice would see and hear her coming because of her obsessive tears and wailing.
Today, whenever there is a statue of St. Monica she is always holding a handkerchief because that is her symbol. How beautiful that she was so messy! I have cried so much and most days, especially in church, I just cannot seem to get it together. I always think of good ol' Monica and her crying with her handkerchief. All those tears and prayers to God eventually changed her son's heart. Augustine had a radical conversion back to our Lord and became one of the greatest saints and doctors of the Church.
The extra cool thing about St. Monica and St. Augustine just happened to me recently. Each January my husband and I pick saints out of a box filled with saints names, to pray to for the following year. Well I went first and got St. Monica. "Perfect," I thought because I knew how much I would need her through my tears. Well then Nathan went next and picked for Caleb (so that he could have a buddy in Heaven). And guess what- he drew St. Augustine! This made me cry! I could not believe it and felt so held by the saints. I mean I know we believe in Heaven and the communion of Saints and all that, but sometimes it is hard to see the realness of it all. That night I saw it. St. Monica and St. Augustine, me and Caleb. I am not calling myself a saint by any means, but the mother/son relationship these two had was incredible and it gave me comfort to know my little boy loves me that way, like he hasn't forgotten about me. Nathan picked St. Joseph, which fits him completely, and Abigail got St. Phillip Neri. Not too sure what will come of that one, but we will wait and see.
So, these have been my companions. So many times I have not been able to run to God in all of this. I am scared of Him, I doubt Him, I do not trust Him the way I used to. We have a rough relationship right now but are working on it. However, during these times I have leaned on the saints to show me their examples of choosing hope even through suffering. I have felt so close to these women and know that they are walking right along side me, even if I cannot physically see them. I will be forever grateful to be Catholic and to have the communion of Saints. I long for Heaven when I will see these women face to face and we can all catch up and share our stories of serving the Lord.
St.Monica, Hannah, St. Elizabeth Ann Seaton, Blessed Zelie Martin, and Mother Mary- Pray for us!
Friday, January 6, 2012
Secondary Losses
One term that I learned very early on in grief counseling is "secondary losses." These are losses that are secondary to your main loss, but still occur because of your loss. For example, when a person loses their spouse, they don't just lose their husband- they also lose the person who took care of the yard, paid the bills, wrapped the Christmas presents, did the cooking, etc....
I remember the first time they spoke about secondary losses at group counseling and I felt this huge relief wash over me. I had been feeling so many losses but thought it was just me! Truly, for me the secondary losses have been just as hard as losing Caleb. They have turned my whole world upside down and are the reason I have the wind knocked out of me much. The secondary losses also need to be grieved right along with your main loss. It has been good for me to identify these losses when I see them and to grieve each one as they happen.
Some of the secondary losses that I have been grieving at the almost 9 month mark are:
Sunday Church. We decided about a month ago that we needed to go to a new parish on Sundays because mentally and emotionally it was too hard to see all the people we knew with their babies who are around the same age as Caleb. We needed the freedom to be able to worship God without the heaviness of all the obstacles. We will go back to our church some day, but for now we are like sojourners traveling to a different parish each week, trying to avoid the "family" masses, be able to sneak in and out without being noticed. It's very different from before when we looked forward to Sunday mass and seeing all of our friends in the pews next to us.
Our social life. It is non existent right now. We are dealing with so much emotionally with grieving Caleb and getting ready to have another baby in just 8 weeks, that hanging out just isn't something we can do right now. After Caleb died we kind of fell off the face of the Earth when it came to socializing. Most of the people we used to hang out with all have young kids and it was just too hard. So now I sit around on the weekends and try not to get angry that I sometimes feel like a prisoner in my own home. I know its necessary and I also know it won't be forever, but it still stinks.
The innocence of pregnancy. This is a big one. I cannot believe how naive I was about pregnancy before. Now I see it as something to "get through." I cannot do the normal pregnancy things. When people ask me in public about Abigail and her due date and all that, I try to change the subject as quickly as possible. Pregnancy for me brings up the worst wounds and I feel so vulnerable. For me, pregnancy has caused me more pain than I ever imagined and so when people want to act happy about it, I just have to cringe inside. It makes me sad that the innocence is lost. Sad that I cannot buy tons of pink onsies right now and prepare the nursery. All of that was taken from me after Caleb died inside of me. Even something as simple as installing the car seat, which would make most couples excited, brings on a panic attack for me. I remember the car seat being installed and I also remember it being taken out, empty. So, no preparing, no extended conversations about this pregnancy with strangers. Our "birth plan" for Abigail includes talking to our doctors and nurses about post traumatic stress and how to handle it if it should come up in the delivery room. Other than that we really don't care what happens except that she comes out alive. All of this is such a big loss from a normal person's pregnancy.
Our dream for a big family. We always wanted to have a larger family but now after losing one child, we have our hesitations. We now feel like the decision to try to achieve a pregnancy will carry with it so much weight. For us, getting pregnant also means the reality of burying another child and that is a heavy decision that we will have to take to prayer in the rest of our marriage. Because pregnancy for us is now so traumatic and demanding (tons more appointments, tons more sonograms, tons more stress and anxiety), each child we would bring into this world now has a new level of discernment. Are we capable of going through another 9 months of constant vigilance, the 2 a.m. wake up calls when I make Nathan get out of bed and check for the baby's heartbeat with the doppler, the 2-3 times a week doctor appointments, the uncertainty of it all? The emotional and psychological cost of pregnancy is heavy now, not light and carefree as it once was. So maybe a big family is still in store for us, but the decision and discernment that will go into it will be a lot more.
Facebook- a small loss, but still a loss. I deleted my account about 3 weeks after Caleb died. I simply could not see all of the pregnancy pictures, baby pictures, and overall happy comments. I was so excited to post pictures of Caleb at all his different stages for the world to see and when I couldn't, it was simply too much to watch everyone else still be able to. Sometimes I miss Facebook, but truth be told it actually gives me a lot more free time and decrees the temptation to sins of jealousy, gossip, and envy.
My job- another somewhat small thing in the big picture of life, but still significant. I thought I would be able to go back to teaching after taking about 4 months off. How wrong I was! The emotional toll of grief was just too much. I began having more flashbacks, grief attacks, and anxiety. I simply could not be "on" and in front of a classroom for 8 hours every day like I used to be. It was humbling to finally realize and accept that I could not do my job anymore, but there was no way around it.
My intuition as a mother- I just don't trust my intuition anymore. When your child dies inside of you 10 days before their due date and your body gives you no warning after a perfectly healthy pregnancy, you start to doubt your abilities. I just am constantly checking, double, and triple checking things with this new pregnancy. I can't rely on myself to signal when or if something is wrong. Good thing there are remedies for this- we now have a heart doppler that I listen to about once a day.We are planning on buying a monitor with a video if Abigail arrives alive, and we want to get a SIDS detector thing to put on the baby's mattress to alert you if they stop breathing. Gotta love technology.
Extra Curriculars- Most of the "groups" that I belonged to I can no longer go to. Too many moms, babies, breastfeeding, and that sort of thing. My husband and I also led a Bible Study which we have had to step down from because we couldn't lead it anymore. Every year we have gone on an engagement encounter retreat and given talks to engaged couples. We have had to stop doing that as well. I know some of these might come back, but for now they are gone and that is hard.
The "normal" feeling. I struggle a lot with feeling so abnormal after Caleb's death. We have a nursery all ready to go and have to keep the door shut. Its a weird feeling to walk by a door everyday and know that that room is off limits. Sure we go in there from time to time, but right now its too hard on our hearts to have it open. So, we keep it closed and that just makes me feel weird. We also go to the cemetery like its the grocery store. Decorations for Caleb's grave are always changing and while I love "mothering" him this way (one of the few ways I can) it still feels strange. Other things like my new found love of reading the obituaries and praying for all the families, especially those with an infant loss or looking up Caleb's obituary (its still there- they keep it on record for up to a year- the thought of having both of my children in the paper in 11 months, one because of his obituary and one hopefully to announce her birth is so surreal) just to see his name officially written somewhere- all of these are strange, well strange for someone who hasn't lost a baby I suppose. So overall just a loss of any resemblance of "normal" in our lives. Although our grief counselor does always remind us that normal is just a setting on your dryer...
The last one I am struggling with right now is hard. I have lost the ability to enter into other people's pregnancies. I just cannot go there. I don't go to baby showers anymore. I don't send gifts until after the baby comes out alive. Even then its usually a simple target gift card because I can't bring myself to actually step foot back into the baby section and pick a gift out for the baby. If I get birth announcements in the mail I have to throw them away because they cause me too much pain. Its terribly agonizing for me to have to hear other people's labor and delivery stories. I just feel so robbed of the whole thing that hearing others' stories brings back so many hard memories. The loss of being able to celebrate with friends their new gift of life has been VERY humbling, especially because I have always claimed to be a pro-life Catholic who truly believes each life is a gift from our Lord. I still believe that, but just can't enter into it right now.
Overall these are just a FEW of the secondary losses I have experienced and in particular a few that I am dealing with and grieving right now, almost 9 months later. The beauty in all these losses is it really makes you turn to God in a whole new way. I have hardly any distractions from our Lord. He has really cleared away any underbrush that was in my life.
When I joined FOCUS and became a missionary I feel like God really stripped me of material things. After loosing Caleb, I feel like He is showing me how attached I was to the "RyAnne
Secondary losses are hard and most people don't even know they exist. If you know someone who is grieving, talk to them about these losses. Have compassion on them and understand that losing someone you love is just part of the whole picture of loss. Don't try to understand their secondary losses or why they effect the person so much. Each person's grief is as unique as their fingerprint. Just listen,listen, and listen and be that shoulder for them to cry on.
I remember the first time they spoke about secondary losses at group counseling and I felt this huge relief wash over me. I had been feeling so many losses but thought it was just me! Truly, for me the secondary losses have been just as hard as losing Caleb. They have turned my whole world upside down and are the reason I have the wind knocked out of me much. The secondary losses also need to be grieved right along with your main loss. It has been good for me to identify these losses when I see them and to grieve each one as they happen.
Some of the secondary losses that I have been grieving at the almost 9 month mark are:
Sunday Church. We decided about a month ago that we needed to go to a new parish on Sundays because mentally and emotionally it was too hard to see all the people we knew with their babies who are around the same age as Caleb. We needed the freedom to be able to worship God without the heaviness of all the obstacles. We will go back to our church some day, but for now we are like sojourners traveling to a different parish each week, trying to avoid the "family" masses, be able to sneak in and out without being noticed. It's very different from before when we looked forward to Sunday mass and seeing all of our friends in the pews next to us.
Our social life. It is non existent right now. We are dealing with so much emotionally with grieving Caleb and getting ready to have another baby in just 8 weeks, that hanging out just isn't something we can do right now. After Caleb died we kind of fell off the face of the Earth when it came to socializing. Most of the people we used to hang out with all have young kids and it was just too hard. So now I sit around on the weekends and try not to get angry that I sometimes feel like a prisoner in my own home. I know its necessary and I also know it won't be forever, but it still stinks.
The innocence of pregnancy. This is a big one. I cannot believe how naive I was about pregnancy before. Now I see it as something to "get through." I cannot do the normal pregnancy things. When people ask me in public about Abigail and her due date and all that, I try to change the subject as quickly as possible. Pregnancy for me brings up the worst wounds and I feel so vulnerable. For me, pregnancy has caused me more pain than I ever imagined and so when people want to act happy about it, I just have to cringe inside. It makes me sad that the innocence is lost. Sad that I cannot buy tons of pink onsies right now and prepare the nursery. All of that was taken from me after Caleb died inside of me. Even something as simple as installing the car seat, which would make most couples excited, brings on a panic attack for me. I remember the car seat being installed and I also remember it being taken out, empty. So, no preparing, no extended conversations about this pregnancy with strangers. Our "birth plan" for Abigail includes talking to our doctors and nurses about post traumatic stress and how to handle it if it should come up in the delivery room. Other than that we really don't care what happens except that she comes out alive. All of this is such a big loss from a normal person's pregnancy.
Our dream for a big family. We always wanted to have a larger family but now after losing one child, we have our hesitations. We now feel like the decision to try to achieve a pregnancy will carry with it so much weight. For us, getting pregnant also means the reality of burying another child and that is a heavy decision that we will have to take to prayer in the rest of our marriage. Because pregnancy for us is now so traumatic and demanding (tons more appointments, tons more sonograms, tons more stress and anxiety), each child we would bring into this world now has a new level of discernment. Are we capable of going through another 9 months of constant vigilance, the 2 a.m. wake up calls when I make Nathan get out of bed and check for the baby's heartbeat with the doppler, the 2-3 times a week doctor appointments, the uncertainty of it all? The emotional and psychological cost of pregnancy is heavy now, not light and carefree as it once was. So maybe a big family is still in store for us, but the decision and discernment that will go into it will be a lot more.
Facebook- a small loss, but still a loss. I deleted my account about 3 weeks after Caleb died. I simply could not see all of the pregnancy pictures, baby pictures, and overall happy comments. I was so excited to post pictures of Caleb at all his different stages for the world to see and when I couldn't, it was simply too much to watch everyone else still be able to. Sometimes I miss Facebook, but truth be told it actually gives me a lot more free time and decrees the temptation to sins of jealousy, gossip, and envy.
My job- another somewhat small thing in the big picture of life, but still significant. I thought I would be able to go back to teaching after taking about 4 months off. How wrong I was! The emotional toll of grief was just too much. I began having more flashbacks, grief attacks, and anxiety. I simply could not be "on" and in front of a classroom for 8 hours every day like I used to be. It was humbling to finally realize and accept that I could not do my job anymore, but there was no way around it.
My intuition as a mother- I just don't trust my intuition anymore. When your child dies inside of you 10 days before their due date and your body gives you no warning after a perfectly healthy pregnancy, you start to doubt your abilities. I just am constantly checking, double, and triple checking things with this new pregnancy. I can't rely on myself to signal when or if something is wrong. Good thing there are remedies for this- we now have a heart doppler that I listen to about once a day.We are planning on buying a monitor with a video if Abigail arrives alive, and we want to get a SIDS detector thing to put on the baby's mattress to alert you if they stop breathing. Gotta love technology.
Extra Curriculars- Most of the "groups" that I belonged to I can no longer go to. Too many moms, babies, breastfeeding, and that sort of thing. My husband and I also led a Bible Study which we have had to step down from because we couldn't lead it anymore. Every year we have gone on an engagement encounter retreat and given talks to engaged couples. We have had to stop doing that as well. I know some of these might come back, but for now they are gone and that is hard.
The "normal" feeling. I struggle a lot with feeling so abnormal after Caleb's death. We have a nursery all ready to go and have to keep the door shut. Its a weird feeling to walk by a door everyday and know that that room is off limits. Sure we go in there from time to time, but right now its too hard on our hearts to have it open. So, we keep it closed and that just makes me feel weird. We also go to the cemetery like its the grocery store. Decorations for Caleb's grave are always changing and while I love "mothering" him this way (one of the few ways I can) it still feels strange. Other things like my new found love of reading the obituaries and praying for all the families, especially those with an infant loss or looking up Caleb's obituary (its still there- they keep it on record for up to a year- the thought of having both of my children in the paper in 11 months, one because of his obituary and one hopefully to announce her birth is so surreal) just to see his name officially written somewhere- all of these are strange, well strange for someone who hasn't lost a baby I suppose. So overall just a loss of any resemblance of "normal" in our lives. Although our grief counselor does always remind us that normal is just a setting on your dryer...
The last one I am struggling with right now is hard. I have lost the ability to enter into other people's pregnancies. I just cannot go there. I don't go to baby showers anymore. I don't send gifts until after the baby comes out alive. Even then its usually a simple target gift card because I can't bring myself to actually step foot back into the baby section and pick a gift out for the baby. If I get birth announcements in the mail I have to throw them away because they cause me too much pain. Its terribly agonizing for me to have to hear other people's labor and delivery stories. I just feel so robbed of the whole thing that hearing others' stories brings back so many hard memories. The loss of being able to celebrate with friends their new gift of life has been VERY humbling, especially because I have always claimed to be a pro-life Catholic who truly believes each life is a gift from our Lord. I still believe that, but just can't enter into it right now.
Overall these are just a FEW of the secondary losses I have experienced and in particular a few that I am dealing with and grieving right now, almost 9 months later. The beauty in all these losses is it really makes you turn to God in a whole new way. I have hardly any distractions from our Lord. He has really cleared away any underbrush that was in my life.
When I joined FOCUS and became a missionary I feel like God really stripped me of material things. After loosing Caleb, I feel like He is showing me how attached I was to the "RyAnne
Secondary losses are hard and most people don't even know they exist. If you know someone who is grieving, talk to them about these losses. Have compassion on them and understand that losing someone you love is just part of the whole picture of loss. Don't try to understand their secondary losses or why they effect the person so much. Each person's grief is as unique as their fingerprint. Just listen,listen, and listen and be that shoulder for them to cry on.
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