Who am I today?

Who am I now?  Am I the same, or have I changed? 

I don’t think I can fully answer this yet.  I think I am still too involved in my grief and not fully back into the real world. 

But this is who I am, or rather, who I am not at this moment after the birth and death of my daughter.

I am no longer the dependable friend. 

I would never let my friends down and I would never miss a social function even if it meant driving out of town and back again in the same night.  The guilt would plague me otherwise.  I can’t do this now.  I’m sorry, I cannot come to your baby shower even if you NEED me there to be part of your memories – why can’t you understand.  I cannot be there because it would not be beneficial to ME or my heart at the moment.  For once I am thinking about ME.

I am no longer the confident, sociable, happy, outgoing, engaging person.

I use to be able to make conversation with people easily.  My friends always commented on how they wish they could breeze into a room with confidence and chat to strangers like I could.  Now I cannot be bothered.  They don’t know what I’m going through underneath the false exterior I present.  They cannot see that all I think about when I talk to them is my dead child.  I now avoid social situations where I know there will be large numbers of people.  I don’t want to pretend anymore.

I am no longer ambitious.

Building a career, achieving and doing well in my job were high priorities to me.  Now I’m not sure I really care.  Working long hours for a corporation won’t prove to the world that I’m worthwhile, it won’t protect me from bad shit happening to me because I’m good at what I do and a corporation won’t care or support me when bad shit does happen to me.

I AM more in love.

After 13 years, my love is now insurmountable.  How immensely I love this man who chooses to love me right back.  The guy who accepts my crazy and understands me.  Who lets me say the inappropriate thoughts of jealousy, sadness and anger that are rolling around in my head.  The guy whose daughter died too.

I am now also a home body, a computer addict, insular, sad, incomplete, jealous, routined, an over thinker, consumed constantly with thoughts of my daughter, a runner, a blogger.

I am interested to see who I will become, where my life will go from here, after this life changing event.  One thing is for sure, I will not be the same again, please don’t expect me to be.

A grief relapse

I thought things got better with time.  I feel like an addict who’s relapsed, yet my addiction seems to be grief. 

This week I feel nauseous.  This is something new in my “grief journey”, feeling physically ill.  This week I am crying again, a lot.   I feel worse than I did 2 or 3 months out, who knew the 4th month would bring such renewed pain.

I just really want my daughter ALIVE.

In addition to the going back to work imminently (Going back to ‘Normal’), a girl I know was due on Monday this week.  I don’t know if she’s had her baby – I’ve closed down updates from her Facebook page so I don’t torture myself.  But all I can think about is her going into labour and being handed her beautiful baby, the skin to skin contact, the happiness, the accomplishment, the alive-ness of her baby and the dead-ness of mine.  This makes me feel ill and incredibly jealous.

A good friend also came over for dinner.  She is 26 weeks pregnant and all I can imagine is her baby warmly nestled in her tummy sleeping, her body cradling him, nurturing him, loving him.  All I can think about is how Amelia was once in my tummy and how I would so love for her to still be there and feel her close to me again.

I thought I was doing so well with my pregnant friends and holding babies so soon after loosing my daughter.  Now the idea of this is extremely hard again.

I've also been really busy with guests visiting from overseas and trekking around the country so haven't had time to myself to process my thoughts, read blogs and be in my bubble.  Maybe this new grief is just the next stage of incorporating and dealing with my hurting in the real world.  It will get better right?

What ever it is, I don’t like this relapse, it hurts.  

Going back to ‘Normal’

Will I ever be normal again?  Will I ever feel like I can smile and not feel guilty, like life can continue without my daughter being present either physically or in my thoughts?

Today I went into work for the first time since I lost Amelia.  Last time I was there I was happy in the thought that I was going to meet my little girl in a matter of days. Last time I was there was the day I think she died.

I had prepared myself for visiting work and leading up to it was fine with the theory of it all.  The actual task of walking through the doors and talking to people was much harder.  Facing people I don’t like and who caused me immense stress in my last few weeks of work (of which I can’t help question if that contributed to this horrid outcome), talking to people I do like about everything else except the fact that my child has died.

My first visit back to work was meant to be me showing off my cute little baby girl, not talking about returning to work and life going back to “normal”.

I survived though.  I managed.  Only one little break down, which I managed with the help of a colleague who has since lost her father unexpectedly.  She may just be my saving grace when I return. 

I don’t want to go back. 

Or if I have to can I please be pregnant again!  (please).

Am I ready to do it all again?

I am desperate and crave to be pregnant again.

This is all I can think about at the moment, consumed by it.  I am excited by the idea.  I am nervous about the idea.

Will having another baby take some of this pain away?  Or will it never go away? 

Will people realise that I’m not replacing her?  Will there be enough space, time, distance that people will see our children as separate entities? I am not replacing her.  I love her.  She can never be replaced.

Can I bear the pain and disappointment every month if we haven’t been successful?  It was hard enough the first time when it took us 12 months.

What if I miscarry?  Can I suffer this pain of loss again and the inevitable time this will set us back in holding a kicking, screaming baby in our arms?

Will the excitement of being pregnant again be overcome by fear and anxiety? I have no safe mark, I carried 3 days shy of full term.  Will this be the longest 40 weeks of my life?  Originally we thought it was a clotting disorder, now ‘they’ are saying it was a cord accident.  What’s to say that this won’t happen again.  It was a matter of days between having a scan at 38w with everything being fine and her dying.

Is my body ready, has it recovered enough to be a good home for a new baby for another 9 months?  It’s only been 3 months since Amelia was born - ‘they’ recommend waiting at least 6 months to get pregnant again.  Not only for your body to recover after carrying a full term pregnancy, but to grieve fully for my Amelia.

I’ve grieved, I still grieve and I don’t think I will stop, ever.  To some degree I don’t think I will fully grieve until I have a new baby and know exactly what I have missed out on with Amelia – all those firsts that Amelia will never have.  I already know that I am not replacing Amelia but I do know I am trying to fill some of the hurting and my empty arms.