Monday, December 28, 2009


I am a contortionist.
I can take anything that is said, or done, and change it in my mind. It twists and turns and shapes until it is what I want to be. Which is sometimes something so terrible that I am sick and other times fluffy nonsense that I know is the ultimate un-reality.
I wake up in the night to use the bathroom and then I lie down in bed and I take the days events and they fly around in my brain. Swish, swosh. They fumble around. I try to make sense. I try not to think of the worst. I don't let myself replay "that" night anymore. Nothing good seems to come of it. These thoughts become so un-real that they cause me to have random nightmares. Strange, strange nightmares.

Sometimes I feel crazy. Sometimes I feel like I miss these two babies too entirely much because, really, I didn't know them. Then sometimes I feel like I am that horrible person who doesn't feel sad enough for her loss. Doesn't feel "in touch" with her loss. I don't see them in my dreams. I don't really see "signs" of them anywhere. I don't have a symbol, really, that screams out "Aiden and Sophie" to me. Sometimes I feel so numb. Maybe I am just really bad at doing this; at being this.

Instead of thinking about bringing a baby home in July, I play in my mind what I will do this time when this baby dies. What I will bring to the hospital, who I will call and how, how I will make myself go back to work. The only thing I think about baby wise is a name, because I figure at 13 weeks along if I lose this baby any time after now he/she should at least have a name. This makes me feel sick. I feel like a horrible person. I want to enjoy this. I need to. I deserve to. But I'm so scared. My imagination doesn't go beyond March 20th, when I turn 24 weeks. I don't know how to fix this. I feel twisted, delusional, like a terrible mother both to Aiden and Sophie and to this baby as well.

This past week was so hard. I know I don't have to tell you, because you know. You know what it's like. Hubby and I had lunch with my father today. It was strange. I haven't seen him in 2 years. I try to look past what happened in my childhood and beyond. But I cannot. Too much happened. So we chat. Superficial level. Have you sold your house? How's work? How's the dog? I am my father's only child. His first daughter, Mary, is buried next to my grandma. We have this is common. He doesn't mention it. His hair is cut too short, he is too thin. He talks about "buddies" but I'm not sure they exist. Guilt, Guilt, Guilt. You're his only family. He is lonely. He has no one. My head screams out, "HE DID IT TO HIMSELF. HE LEFT US. HE CHEATED ON US." Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

I feel like a broken record.
I don't know how to do this.
I just don't know how to do this.


margaret said...

Sometimes it's easier to forgive and forge ahead than it is to hang onto the past. I have no idea what you went through as a child, but I know all too well the bitterness I held against my own father for his failings. I went ten years without even speaking to him. Then something in me softened. No, he never apologized to the "wrongs" I felt he had done me and it took almost two years before I could say "I love you" and mean it. It was worth it for me in the end. I don't think you're crazy for being hurt or imagining your next child's death. I think it's your way of protecting yourself, of being prepared just in case the unthinkable does happen again. It's normal to be afraid, you've already lived through so much. Try to put a voice to your fears when thoughts start going through your head that give you anxiety. Try focusing on something beautiful, I don't know if it will help but it's helped me out of anxiety attacks. Sending you hugs

Bree said...

I can relate to so many things you said here. I just said the thing about the name just the other day. And, I too think more about a loss than this baby living. The date I'm reaching for is 3/26- I'll be 28 weeks. I'm praying you and I both make it to March!

I'm going to email you back tomorrow. We can chat more then. Hang in there, friend!

Jayme said...

I had such a hard time believing in my last pregnancy- I could not imagine bringing home a live baby. I felt like I was going through the motions the whole time.

Bluebird said...

Oh, honey, I have had every one of these thoughts. I am much more "prepared" for this baby's death than his arrival in to our home. I know what I'd do differently, in an effort to learn from our experience. I know what I'd do the same, in an effort to keep things "fair." We only started talking about a name when I knew we would have to have one for "papers."

I think I feel too much, I think I feel too little. . . I know this doesn't help, but if you're crazy then I am too :)

In my opinion, you "do this" in whatever way feels right to you at that exact moment in time. One of the hardest things about all this is that there is no rule book; no instruction manuel. It sucks, because no one should ever have to have these experiences. So we do the best we can. Be easy on yourself.

((Hugs)) to you.

Catherine W said...

You aren't a terrible mother. Not to Sophie or Aiden or to your new little one.

You love them all. And it is no wonder that your head is spinning with everything that you have been through.

Sometimes I feel very 'disconnected' from losing G, from having the twins so early, from the whole experience in the NICU. I think that numbness is a survival mechanism? I don't see those symbols or signs either.

I'm sorry about your Dad. I'm sorry that life isn't treating him kindly at the moment. But I don't think you have to feel guilty about him.

Thinking of you xo

Wendy said...

I feel like I just read my own thoughts. I recently found out I'm expecting again, just 4 months after burying my 13 day old son. I wanted to get pregnant again, I need to hold a baby.. and days like today, I wonder what have I gotten myself into! I understand your fear, frustration and anxiety. Know that you're not alone.

Nan & Mike said...

sucks, sucks, sucks! I am sorry that the mind screws with us. You are never alone honey! I continue to pray for you always. Love, Nan xo