Today was the day that I thought I was doing well. I decided that 5 months later, I am stronger, I have come a long way, I still have many sad moments when I think of our summer, but they are moments and not full days....so I reach for the large bereavement package that was mailed to me months ago from the Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome Foundation that has been sitting on top of my dresser. I read the first line "the loss of a twin..." I stop, take a deep breath in while wearing a mask on my face to prevent Alyssa from getting my cold as I hold her in my arms. That is as far as I could read...thank goodness Alyssa was ready for her nap, as I worried about my tears infecting her with my cold germs...I layed her down in her bassinet, and courageously picked up the pamphlet again along with a roll of toilet tissue and started all over.
"You were pregnant with twins, but now you have one baby to hold and to take home. These experiences are difficult to share...." "The following are possible reactions you may experience"
As I read through all the reactions, I couldn't stop crying, I'm still crying as I type this entry. None of these reactions are something I am seeing for the first time, we went through all of them in my bereavement sessions, which finished and I felt good. But now as I look over them, I feel that I am right back where I started, like I really haven't worked through as much as I thought.
Shock and Denial: This was the first reaction felt obviously, this is how we were able to get through those first weeks, by feeling numb. I don't have this feeling anymore.
Anger: I thought I got over this, but as I read, I realized I wasn't. I am still angry at the Dr. who was so cold to us. I am angry because I feel like he wasn't completely honest with us. I guess he is really the only person I am angry with.
Guilt: Will I ever stop feeling guilty, or experiencing the "what if's?" or "why's?". I thought I was at a good place, or was getting there. I realize that there are some things that we cannot control, I do, but I constantly wonder if Jessica had more strength then we gave her credit for...Could she have overcome everything against her? Probably not, but that is a what if that I can't seem to get out of my head. I had a visit with my friend a couple weeks ago. She had identical twin girls in March and it never bothered me going to visit her. I don't know why really, because seeing other twins always upsets me...other twins who I don't know I guess. But this time it was different. Seeing her girls older and bigger and more interactive crawling around everywhere was hard. I will be ok, and will see them again of course, but it's harder now for some reason, then it was initially. I often wonder if we had just given her more time...maybe she would be crawling around and interacting with Alyssa like these girls were.
Acceptance: "As the intensity of the shock, denial, anger and guilt subsides, you will begin to accpt the reality of your twin babies' death. this is a painful step, but it is the beginning of healing." This is where I want to be, and in some ways I may be...but as I read through the pamphlet the sadness overwhelms me, and my nose fills up as the tears come pouring down.
The final reaction I read was Sadness: It says that it never truly ends, but becomes more bearable with time. I think I am feeling the "intense sadness" they talk about that can come up unexpectantly and bring tears anytime for many years. Maybe because we are so close to the holidays...My favorite holiday of Christmas which we never were able to share with Jessica.
So that is as far as I read. You'd think because I couldn't read any further, that I would stop. But no, the warrior in me decided to go to Jessica's memory box and look through her belongings, if only for a second. That second was brief, I am not ready to look there right now, I am not ready to look at pictures of my dead baby, no matter how nicely they bathed and dressed her for us to hold her one last time. It's just way to hard. So why could I look through these pictures months ago, and watch her video everyday, and now I can't look at pictures of her living or dead? I'm not nearly as strong as I thought I was...as I sit here pouring out my heart to friends, family and strangers who often read my blog, read all the gut baring thoughts I have that show how weak I am, how I havent' "moved on"... Is this blog really a form of therapy for me? Sometimes I think yes, and then sometimes I feel like a fool after I hit the publish post button baring my heart and soul out to people who rarely reply to anything I say.
5 comments:
Sweet j... you are one brave mama. I don't recall if we received a kit from a TTTS foundation, but we did get a folder of bereavement pamphlets and I used them as kindling. I don't know why, but I just had a feeling that I would resent them somehow, that they would do not much more than state the obvious.
And so I hang out at Glow in the Woods, which is real voices instead of stuff photocopied by social workers. If it feels like a place that gives warmth to you, you're always welcomed there... and your voice would bring as much goodness to the other moms and dads there as you might get for yourself.
As for those 3-step or 8-step or 12-step breakdowns of trauma and grief? Bah. Trying to put grief on a linear frame would be like trying to put love on a linear frame. It's more circular than anything, and certainly three-dimensional. Do not read this list and feel like you should have reached one milestone or another by now. That pamphlet? That was probably written by a psychology student. A babylost mama would say something more like this:
http://www.glowinthewoods.com/home/2008/7/27/a-wave-of-surrender.html
Every word of what you wrote.. I receive it, absorb it. I could have written this, too. I've been there, and am still there, although it's a different shape now.
It's not easy. First you grieve the fact that your child died. Then once that shock begins to subside, you're left trying to figure who you are. You have to learn how to be the mother of a spirit-baby - a motherhood that's unlike any other motherhood. She is still your girl. You can talk to her, cry with her, love her so far and so much that she knows it from one side of this life to the next. It's a tough learning curve, figuring out how to be a spiritbaby mama and an ordinary mama at the same time. If you ever figure it out, will you let me know? (hug)
Be patient with yourself. Crying is the blood of a clean wound. It doesn't 'mean' anything about you. It just 'is'. It doesn't mean you're not strong. It means you have the grace to spend time with Jessica, even though right now, that visitation is an emotional tidal wave. You're moving forward like some kind of Jekyll and Hyde, one baby lost and one baby here to drink your milk. Such joy and pain, such bittersweetness for one heart to sustain all at the same time.
I've got another suggestion for you, but one that's best left to an email. I'll be in touch tonight.
Much love and light, and a great, big, weepy hug. You're doing just as you should.
xoxo Kate
Thanks Kate,
You always have the perfect words, and knowing that you have been where I am...and then to see you today, is very hopeful. You're one strong babylost mama!!
I do "hang out" once in a while at Glow in the Woods. It was a regular early morning ritual for me most of the summer, well in August when I found out about it. And I'm sure I'll continue to hang out there.
Jen, I know nothing I can say will make you feel better, just want to say we still think of you and your family often. Can't began to understand what you're going through, just know there are lots of people out there who care for you all and are willing to lend their ears to listen, their shoulders to cry on, whatever you need. Cry if you need to, and don't feel bad about it. Hope you are holding up okay :) Try and enjoy the holidays with her hubby and two beautiful girls, they are precious :)
Hi Jen ...I think of you often and cry every time I read your blogs and think of all the hurt you have gone throught. Losing a baby IS the hardest thing a parent has to face in her /his life . thinking of you hun and wishing your days will become easier with time .
Hugs Bernie
I came across your blog tonight. I too lost a baby boy born too soon at just under 23 weeks. I have gone on to have another baby - girl born 31 weeks and doing well, but the sadness is always with you, somedays more than others. The holidays are the hardest I think - knowing that our precious babies will never experience them, and we will never have them with us for the holidays either.
Stay strong, and cry whenever you need to - I still do and it's been 2.5 years now.
Post a Comment