I shouldn't have gone tonight. I knew in my gut that I shouldn't go, but through a little persuasion, Jen got me there. I love you Jen, so no hard feelings! You mean well and you're a great friend.
Card swap was tonight and I hadn't planned on going. Today was a terrible day and I spent it in and out of tears. There is something around every corner reminding me of what has happened. I can't escape the gut wrenching pain and today was very hard. I hadn't planned on going, but I did anyway.
A hard part of this is the inevitable discomfort that is brought on when I walk into the room. No one knows what to say to me. And I don't blame them because before I had experienced it, I never knew what to say either. It's like an exclusive club that you never want to be a part of, but once you're in it, you totally understand. But without membership, it's impossible to fully get "it".
So I went. And it went better than I thought and I was thinking it had been a good idea that I'd gone. I want to feel normal. In fact, I'm desperate for normalcy again. During the evening I felt distracted and I was even able to laugh a couple of times. Now, I don't think I am the center of the universe because this happened to us. I know life still goes on and people still live their own lives apart from me and my world of grief.
But tonight there were some incredibly insensitive remarks made (by people who were completely unaware...I'm sure no hurt was intended) and suddenly the room became small and I couldn't breathe. Jen is such a wonderful friend for many reasons, but she proved her friendship tonight when she told me it was time to go. She knew I was hurting so much and I needed to get out of there.
As soon as we left I felt like I would throw up. We walked home and I cried hysterically as the pain welled up within me and I ached for my loss all over again. We got back to my house and Jen stood there and cried with me. She doesn't have membership in this unfortunate club, and I pray that she never does. But she showed so much empathy and cried with me.
After talking to Cody in between heaves and kissing the kids goodnight, I felt like I had to go on another walk or I would have a heart attack. The pain I felt at that moment is indescribable. So I left the house, no shoes, no coat. I just felt the icey ground beneath my feet and I walked. I didn't know where I was going so I walked around the block, sobbing into the night. I looked down the street and saw a light on in Jules' house. Something attracted me to it like a moth to a flame and I found myself on her doorstep.
Jules', sadly IS a member of the club, twice over. One loss early on like mine, and one loss at 24 weeks. To make a long story short she welcomed me into her home with open arms and we sat there and cried together. I told her my story, she told me hers. I think I have been craving that kind of conversation, with someone who REALLY gets is. Her losses were fairly recent and her wound is still raw like mine. I know it was the spirit that led me to her tonight.
She gave me a book to read about loss and grieving called "Gone Too Soon" and I've already started reading it. It has accounts of women who've lost babies at 3 weeks and at 40 weeks and everywhere in between. I am understanding now that my feelings are very real, very natural, and very okay. I've been feeling like I was crazy for being this devastated over losing a baby so early on. But this is what it feels like, to every mother in my shoes. Or at least it should. I am normal. I am not crazy, and it's okay to feel this way. I'm a member of the exclusive club, but it's a club that no mother should have membership into.
Card swap was tonight and I hadn't planned on going. Today was a terrible day and I spent it in and out of tears. There is something around every corner reminding me of what has happened. I can't escape the gut wrenching pain and today was very hard. I hadn't planned on going, but I did anyway.
A hard part of this is the inevitable discomfort that is brought on when I walk into the room. No one knows what to say to me. And I don't blame them because before I had experienced it, I never knew what to say either. It's like an exclusive club that you never want to be a part of, but once you're in it, you totally understand. But without membership, it's impossible to fully get "it".
So I went. And it went better than I thought and I was thinking it had been a good idea that I'd gone. I want to feel normal. In fact, I'm desperate for normalcy again. During the evening I felt distracted and I was even able to laugh a couple of times. Now, I don't think I am the center of the universe because this happened to us. I know life still goes on and people still live their own lives apart from me and my world of grief.
But tonight there were some incredibly insensitive remarks made (by people who were completely unaware...I'm sure no hurt was intended) and suddenly the room became small and I couldn't breathe. Jen is such a wonderful friend for many reasons, but she proved her friendship tonight when she told me it was time to go. She knew I was hurting so much and I needed to get out of there.
As soon as we left I felt like I would throw up. We walked home and I cried hysterically as the pain welled up within me and I ached for my loss all over again. We got back to my house and Jen stood there and cried with me. She doesn't have membership in this unfortunate club, and I pray that she never does. But she showed so much empathy and cried with me.
After talking to Cody in between heaves and kissing the kids goodnight, I felt like I had to go on another walk or I would have a heart attack. The pain I felt at that moment is indescribable. So I left the house, no shoes, no coat. I just felt the icey ground beneath my feet and I walked. I didn't know where I was going so I walked around the block, sobbing into the night. I looked down the street and saw a light on in Jules' house. Something attracted me to it like a moth to a flame and I found myself on her doorstep.
Jules', sadly IS a member of the club, twice over. One loss early on like mine, and one loss at 24 weeks. To make a long story short she welcomed me into her home with open arms and we sat there and cried together. I told her my story, she told me hers. I think I have been craving that kind of conversation, with someone who REALLY gets is. Her losses were fairly recent and her wound is still raw like mine. I know it was the spirit that led me to her tonight.
She gave me a book to read about loss and grieving called "Gone Too Soon" and I've already started reading it. It has accounts of women who've lost babies at 3 weeks and at 40 weeks and everywhere in between. I am understanding now that my feelings are very real, very natural, and very okay. I've been feeling like I was crazy for being this devastated over losing a baby so early on. But this is what it feels like, to every mother in my shoes. Or at least it should. I am normal. I am not crazy, and it's okay to feel this way. I'm a member of the exclusive club, but it's a club that no mother should have membership into.
7 comments:
I am sorry Veronica! Gosh darn it!
Love you!
Veronica - I am so sorry for your loss and your pain. You have such a love for your kids it is no surprise to me that you feel such a love for your little one.
And it is definitely healing to talk to someone - in the club- who actually gets it and understands what you are saying and feeling. Glad you found that last night. Take good care.
I am so sorry for your pain and grief. I am glad you found someone to talk it out with. Hopefully, you will feel the peace of the Savior and can heal.
I tried calling you. Maybe it's too soon to talk, but email me, or call me when you want.
I am so sorry to hear about your precious loss. I am not very good at checking blogs and keeping in contact so I had no idea until now. Sorry I feel like a bad friend for not knowing :( I am here for you if you need anything at all. Love ya.
I'm so sorry that evening was so hard. I can't imagine how difficult it would be. I was surprised to see you there and I am glad you came, even if it became hard in the end. It probably led to your need for a little walk and then to a friend to comfort and ease your pain. The Lord works in mysterious ways and sometime we have to deal with a little (or big) hurt to get us to the comfort of healing that we need. Love you.
Wishing you the best at this hard time.
Don't worry. I've got your back.
Post a Comment