I have been slacking on my writing. It feels like since we haven’t started treatment again (I’m going in for my screening US on the 12th), I don’t know what to write about. Today I stumbled upon JenJen06’s post about Carly Marie’s Capture Your Grief project for October and it was just what I needed. It is more of a photo project I think but I am going to write with it. The photo I will share on social media probably but as this is still largely anonymous,my other thoughts will go here. I like the idea of “mindful healing”. Sometimes it is easy to just ‘move’ through our grief; the bad days are bad and the rest of the days we just make it. I want to continue to heal. I want to honor the memory of my sons; I need to be whole for my future children.
Check out the link below and join me if you are interested!!
Capture Your Grief 2016
I got a notification that today was my one year anniversary on WordPress. Wow!! It simultaneously feels like an lifetime and an instant. So much has happened in that year. I remember when I first got here. I was so… heavy. I needed a way to escape the feeling of having lost Langston. Writing seemed like a good outlet. So I tentatively made that first post not knowing where it would go, if anyone would see it or if anyone would care. I found out I was wrong. What I found here was a community that I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams existed. Here I found acceptance and understanding. Here I didn’t have to be ashamed of my grief or guilt or jealousy or anger or the dark thoughts that came when I said I was ‘OK’.
I have developed friendships here that have helped me in this last year. When I got pregnant with Lucas my sisters here rejoiced with me. They held their breaths through every ultrasound, prayed through every sleepless night, helped me laugh when I was being cynical and cried with me when the anxiety threatened to overwhelm. And when the unthinkable happened, when we lost yet another son, my sisters grieved with me. Across miles, they held me in their hearts. They ranted and screamed and cried to a God who would do this again…..and then, little by little, we healed and accepted and returned to that same God who always restores. I know that I couldn’t have made it this last year without my community here. Thank you for taking me in when I was broken and for starting the healing process. Thank you for allowing me to glimpse your sorrow, your anger, your frustration but most importantly, your hope. Here’s to many more years.
I need to finish this baby blanket. I had told myself that I would finish it by Lucas’s due date on July 15th…and that date has come and gone and still I haven’t made any more progress on it since the Thursday before my water broke.
Oh, I’ve picked it up a few times and started working on a square, only to put it away within a few minutes. I can’t explain it. I feel like I’m at the place in my grief process where I can only deal in facts. My therapist loved to tell me “feelings are not facts” so now it feels safe to only operate based on facts. And the fact is, I don’t have a baby to make this blanket for. Yes, there is hope there, that one day I will have a little one who will use this blanket and I can tell them one day about their siblings. Right now though, the reality of where I am kind of keeps me grounded. I’ll be pregnant again, I’m sure…and when that happens, I will pick up this blanket again and it will keep me hopeful. Hopeful that this time will be time it gets finished . Hopeful that this time it will get used.
Today, my 2nd son was due to be born.
I spent the day in the sun. In the ocean. By myself. It was exactly what I needed. I cried a few times but they were tears of….acceptance? I have two sons. My life has changed in the last year and a half in ways I would have never expected. I am stronger. I am strong. I will never forget my sons. I am their mother and the lessons that I have learned loving them have made me stronger.
I miss you sweet boy. I’ll see you someday soon.
So surgery is done. The last “thing” that I can do to increase my chances for carrying a baby to term has been done. How do I feel? Apathetic. That’s a good word. And then I feel guilty for feeling that way because it is a blessing that I found a doctor, got approval from insurance and had a complication free procedure. But I honestly don’t feel anything yet.
One of my coworkers, was saying how excited she is for me to start trying again. Am I hopeful? Sure. Excited? Nah. I’ve been excited before and shit all came from it. It feels now like I’m gathering strength for the next phase. My RE appointment is scheduled for September 7th. The cycle of shots and pills and timed sects takes strength and I’m just gearing back up to jump into that again.
But if I can be totally honest, and I know this goes against the ‘speak positivism into the atmosphere’usual stance, I feel like I’m setting myself up. Like it will all be for nothing. I know that is doubt talking and I recognize that. But I feel like having a transparent journey as a Christian requires us to show that it isn’t always positive and strong. Sometimes I am scared. Sometimes, I don’t know if I can do anymore. Sometimes, my faith wavers. So for now, I’ll take tomorrow, head to the beach, think about my boys and then get ready for this next step in the journey.
I have been MIA. Well not really, I’ve been lurking in the background, liking posts here and there but I haven’t really been in the mood to post. I do need to write my surgery post; maybe that will happen today. Recovery has been more mentally hard than physically but that is for another post.
I think I haven’t written because I don’t know what to say. Yes, surgery went well and I should be happy for another chance to carry a child successfully…but I’ve been optimistic in the past and it has gotten me nowhere and nothing more than another hole in my heart. Also, I don’t like the person I am sometimes when I read posts on here. Being totally honest, I am jealous. Jealous. Envious. Angry. Guilty. Why Not Me syndrome is dangerous and I am not proud of it. It is a vicious cycle of longing for what other people have and then feeling guilty for not being able to put aside my longing far away enough to just be genuinely happy for everyone. I don’t always like the version of me that losing my sons has made me into. But I am trying to be better..sometimes that just looks like being numb and knowing that I can’t react or interact. But I miss the outlet that writing is, so I’m slowly making my way back.
I don’t remember who posted about this but I remember someone talking about “silent goodbyes” in social media groups and how when you announce that you’re leaving everyone else behind it is salt in the wound. Well I’m feeling like that today. I am part of a group for moms of loss as well as those struggling with infertility. I’ve noticed a pattern and it GRINDS MY GEARS. There is one lady who has been trying for about a year after an early loss. The last 8-9 months we have all supported her monthly and even DAILY when she posted. Assuaging her fears. Cheering her on. Comforting her when she was feeling doubt. Being excited during the 2ww. She recently found out she was pregnant about 9 weeks ago. Since then she pops in every few weeks to update us on how her life is now usually with the flippant “sorry guys, being pregnant has me wiped out, I used to have so much more time to post on here” and it pisses me off!!!! We have held your hand and forgotten about our own situations temporarily and now you just traipse back in here ever so often to update us on your fabulous pregnancy. I think today it got to me because one of the members had a loss a week ago and here she comes with “I’ll probably be leaving this group soon because I joined another one”. I am not begrudging this woman her happiness; I just want her to be better and somehow remember a few short months ago when she was in our place and the support that everyone gave her. Ok I’m done.
May has become a literal mind field of triggers for me. It’s funny how I now see everything in light of “before” and “after” babies. I’ll look at my wedding pictures or pictures with friends at various events and immediately I’ll know if it was ‘before’, or during one of my pregnancies or ‘since’. The ‘since’ pictures are the hardest because I can clearly see a difference in my smile…I’m not that person in the before pictures and I honestly don’t know when, if ever, I’ll get back to that.
And here comes May.
May is birthday (1st), MOTHER’S DAY( yes all CAPS because the world has been shouting it at me), the anniversary of Langston’s birth (14th) and what was supposed to be the baby shower for Lucas (30th). Even before this month started, I was ready for June. Last week building up to my birthday I felt the heaviness approaching. How is it possible that in a year I have lost two sons?? How is that my life? It seems so surreal.
I gave Hubbins a heads up that this month would be hard and in the special way he has, he took care of me. Friday we spent the day together, had breakfast at a little café (amazing French Toast)and he sent me for a manicure and pedicure. That night we had pizza on the couch and caught up on our tv shows (THE BEST PIZZA EVER after coming off a green smoothie cleanse lol) Saturday was church, lunch and then that night he organized for my close girlfriends and their spouses to join us to see The Jungle Book ( I am huge Disney fan). Sunday while he went to church, I slept. Really slept. Until 1pm. And then I took a nap from 5-6. That evening we tried a new Thai restaurant near us. The weekend was just what I needed. Time with Hubbins, close friends who always know what to say and food ( I like to eat friends.. tis what it is). I feel fortified for the upcoming two weekends. They are going to be hard. But I’ve survived 366 days of hard so I know I can do it.
It has been a while since I’ve posted and that is because I haven’t really known what to say. My HSG is scheduled for this Wednesday so I was planning to post after that. It has been tough y’all. Grieving this second time around has been so different. I hate that I even have to type that but tis what it is. I think when we lost Langston, it caught us off guard and it was easier to accept that this was just a fluke. With Lucas, we worked HARD and still got nothing. Thursday I think was the first day that I finally started feeling like myself since probably the end of last month. Hubbins and I went to a late dinner and we talked, really talked, about our feelings and how we are literally trying to dig our way out from under this. We spoke about finding happiness in the little things. We are talking about buying a house and have been trying to be frugal but we are going to do little splurges. That means a new phone for him and a professional hair appointment with color for me. It seems simple but we have to be intentional in finding things that make us happy.
Therapy has been good. I guess it is helping just because we are talking things through but it is also bringing up a lot of old issues and I was just feeling like I have no emotions left to give for anything. The first few weeks of this month have been hard and I am DETERMINED not to get back to that place. I am a little nervous about the HSG and my consult with the robotics half of the surgery team is scheduled for the end of this month. I have lost 6 of the 30 pounds that I am supposed to be losing but I’m not really stressing the weight loss. We are joining a new gym and I will be getting a trainer; not even so much for the weight loss but just because my body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. I have this tummy issue that kind of just has been hanging around (literally) and I just want to feel like me again; I know that losing weight will be a pleasant side effect. We have two weekend trips planned for this summer so I want to not be walrusy on the beach 🙂
One upside is that I have been reading my Bible a lot more and have been listening to more inspirational music as well as finding various devotionals to read. If you guys have the YouVersion Bible App there is a 7 day devotional on there about dealing with miscarriage that is soooo good. I do feel that if nothing else positive has come from this situation, I feel closer to God. It feels tangible. I talk to Him about being sad and angry and feeling disappointed and every time I get in the car I hear a song that reminds me that in-spite of what our circumstances look like, He is in control and I just need to cling to that hope and not try to make sense of what my life looks like right now. I won’t say it is easy but I am learning to lean on Him and for that, I am thankful.
Oh little one, we miss you. That seems like a weird place to start but it is the emotion that sums it up the best. Although we never met, I feel like I know you. As soon as I saw those two lines telling me I was pregnant, I knew you. And I began to plan. I didn’t think you would be a boy. Daddy has always said that he would have all girls as payback for all the hearts that he broke in college so I just assumed that you would be a girl. I allowed myself to dream. You had so many nicknames. KitKat, Baby Bunny, Baby Spot, Baby Spider Monkey and we used them interchangeably. You made me so nauseous. I remember that I watched what I ate religiously because you made it clear early that if you didn’t’ like a certain food, you would make sure I knew it right away. Although I didn’t like constantly feeling like I was running to the bathroom, in my mind, I loved that you were opinionated and in that I recognized myself.
We started thinking about names for you and I had so many boy names and a few girl names. Langston stuck out to me. It was a strong name. I was already dreaming of the kind of man I wanted you to grow to be. I wanted you to be a thinker and a dreamer. I wanted you to be a strong independent man of God who valued his family and friends and was a hard worker. I knew you would be a mama’s boy and I looked forward to spoiling you. I knew you would have your Daddy’s patience because you surely wouldn’t get it from me. I was so ready to see the way that he loved you because of how he loved me and good he is with kids.When you were born, I saw him in you even as little as you were and my heart broke again as I recognized that you were the perfect realization of our love for each other.
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that we didn’t’ get any of our dreams together. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t keep you with me longer. I’m sorry that I didn’t cherish every day more that we had together. I’m sorry that I won’t ever get to hear you cry or hear you call me Mommy. I tell myself that it is all for a purpose and that you won’t ever feel grief, or pain or have to be sad; that you won’t have to know the harsh realities of being a black man in America…..but the selfish part of me still wants you here. I do thank God for choosing us to be your parents and even though you could not stay, I want you to know that you were so wanted my sweet boy. We longed for you and we worked so hard for you. I love you for making us Mommy and Daddy. You gave us those titles and we wouldn’t have them without you. Thank you for representing my happiness. You will always be my ‘happy’ pregnancy. You represent a time before I thought about babies being born at 13 weeks and being so little that they could not survive. I am going to see you one day. One day an angel will bring you to me and I know that I will instantly recognize you because that’s what happens when you are a mother, even if you haven’t seen your child for a period of time, you recognize them as a part of you that has been missing. I am so happy that I got the chance to know you. I love you so much.