"You get what you pay for, but I just had no intention of living this way." -Counting Crows

Why We're Here...

My husband David and I delivered a stillborn Baby Boy that we loved, and wanted. Our first and only son, Logan, had Down Syndrome. Our daughter's smile is a little light in the darkness. She turned one year old three days after our sweet Logan tip-toed away on January 24, 2009. After 2 1/2 years we found out we were having another baby, whom we affectionatly called Rudy. Just shy of 6 weeks we found out Rudy was Ectopic. Rudy was surgically removed on May 26, 2011 delivering another blow to our already broken hearts.

These dreary days.

I've been feeling dreary lately. Could be the cloudy/snowy weather, it always seems to provoke the blues in me. I dunno. I feel disconnected again and out of sorts. I've let my diet slide for the last few weeks, started drinking loads of pop again (running for comfort perhaps??) and not wanting to clean or shower. This used to be common place for me, earlier this year. But the last couple of months I've managed to stay afloat and breathing normal. But I feel blue these days, impatient and irritated by the mundane things in life.

My new friend, the one who had a miscarriage recently, is so sad. The thing is I like her, a lot. Stalkeresque liking. And it breaks my heart to know she feels such sadness, sadness that I can relate too. And I have this overwhelming urge to comfort her, to protect her, to shield her from this devastation...and I feel helpless and clueless about how to do that. And I guess its because I know that I really can't. Baby loss trauma is one that each person has to wade through in their own way, on their own schedule and no one can fix it, or make it go away. Grief has to be dealt with, it can not be sugar coated or ignored. It can not be fixed with soup or margaritas (believe me, I tried). But I can't help myself. I am obsessed with how she is doing, how she's feeling, what can I do to help? And I feel like maybe I'm being overbearing or weird and freaking her out. And I struggle with knowing where the line is. Am I calling too much, not enough? Am I pushing her to handle her grief like I handled mine? Am I being a pest, or does she want me to call/come by and is too reserved to ask? I get the feeling that she feels like she is an annoyance or a bother to others. And all I want to do is stand in front of her and protect her from the crap that is flying her way. To be a "force field" for her and help her through the most horrific thing the average person will ever go through. But the thing is, we're new friends. I've known her for a year and only recently been a friend to her outside of our children's playgroup. And I don't want to come across as overbearing or needy or smothering or whatever. But if anyones gonna understand her pain, isn't it me? I don't feel like I'm doing enough, or doing too much and its a weird spot to be in. I suck at making new friends.

My other friend, the one with the newborn who has colic... I need to call her. Selfishly I can't seem to work up the umph to do it. She's a compulsive complainer, I love her anyway. I complain an awful lot myself, so who am I to judge? But the thing is, lately I've been feeling weird about her. I know it must suck in a way that I can not imagine to have a baby with colic. To never get peace or rest or feel like you can comfort your child. It must be heartbreaking. And get this, she NEVER complains about it (at least not to me). I'm sure a lot of people feel weird about complaining about their kids to me now days. But I know she wants to, and who could blame her? And I feel guilty about it. I told her having a baby is the most incredible thing ever, that there is nothing but sheer joy! I was wrong. I assumed because my first born was sheer joy, that hers would be too. But its so hard for me to hear that she's miserable, that she isn't enjoying these early days with her daughter and I can't help but think of the alternative (dead baby, not happy one!! Go figure!) and it makes me sad. I want her to be happy no matter what. To know that she is so lucky, because these few bad months will pass and she'll outgrow the colic and then it will be better...her baby lived. And I hate that I feel those things. Hate it. I hate that it is so hard for me to empathize and feel compassion for anyone who has a hardship, because hey, at least they don't have a dead baby. I know how it sounds, I do. I know I sound selfish and bordering on loony. And I know I should suck it up and be a good friend and listen to her hardships without thinking she's ungrateful for her gift. But, like I said, I'm feeling blue these days. I'm missing my son and I'm sad that I know another mother who's baby died and I can't help her. And right now that just seems so much bigger than colic.


Tracie said...

Wow. I could have written that post. I have a new-ish friend who recently lost a little girl due to placenta issues. I think I'm helping her through it but I question myself alot. Am I stalking her? Am I doing enough? Am I pushing her? I literally could have written your words. I know how alone I felt after losing my son...16 years ago, people didn't talk about loss like we do so openly now. Maybe that is why I still grieve as much as I do? No, I doubt it. I think I just miss my son every day that I open my eyes.
Anyway, sorry, didn't mean to overload your comment section. Just wanted to say that I, too, have a friend that I'd like to shield from all of the heartache. Much the same as, even though you and I don't know each other, I'd like to shield you. This is a pain that I hate knowing others endure.

Mary said...

When my friend had her loss, I just wanted to run and hug her and protect her too. We can't help it. It is our motherly instinct to protect especially a friend going thru this. I felt like I was doing too much. I think I was pushing my grief on her so I pulled it back. Maybe ask her or tell her what you are feeling and maybe you will find out that you are doing enough.

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