Grief

Grief doesn't go away ... it changes, yes, but at times it's as raw today as it was forty weeks and five days ago ... If I'm being truly honest, I am broken. Don't get me wrong, I function just fine. And in so many senses, I truly am "ok". I go to work, I clean the house, do the laundry. I even smile and have fun with P. I know that despite it all, I have a good life. But inside, I am broken. On a near daily basis, it feels like my heart is ripped out of my chest, thrown on the ground and stomped on. And every day, I try and pick up the pieces. It is hard. Some days, I am just resigned to the fact that this is my life and I wonder if it ever really happened. Surely I couldn't endure this?! And others, I just hurt. I am constantly transported to the delivery room. I relive that day over and over and over again. I dream about it and wake up sobbing ... I miss Brienna. I ache for her and I want her back in the worst way ...

I found this poem and it made me cry and cry. This is how it feels. How can I call anyone and scream that my daughter is dead? I couldn't do it two days after she died and I certainly can't do it now. P is the only one who knows, so I talk to him. He gets the ebbs and flows, the roller coaster. The ability to be bawling one minute and laughing the next. I alienate myself from everyone else because pretending to be fine is exhausting. Every single relationship I have has changed because Ihave changed. To the core. This is a lonely road. I'm getting there, but it's hard. They say time heals, and I guess to a certain extent, it does. But it doesn't change the fact that I long for my baby. For the little girl she should be becoming ... time can't heal the fact that I am here and she is not.

A Mother's Grief

You ask me how I'm feeling,

but do you really want to know?

The moment I try telling you

You say you have to go

How can I tell you,

what it's been like for me

I am haunted, I am broken

By things that you don't see

You ask me how I'm holding up,

but do you really care?

The second I try to speak my heart,

You start squirming in your chair.

Because I am so lonely,

you see, no one comes around,

I'll take the words I want to say

And quietly choke them down.

Everyone avoids me now,

Because they don't know what to say

They tell me I'll be there for you,

then turn and walk away.

Call me if you need me,

that's what everybody said,

But how can I call you and scream

into the phone,

My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me

say the words I need to say

Why does a mothers grief

scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending

as my heart pounds in my chest,

I say things to make you comfortable,

but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things

that are too sad to be told,

of the helplessness of holding a child

who in your arms grows cold?

Maybe you can tell me,

How should one behave,

who's had to follow their child's casket,

watched it perched above a grave?

You cannot imagine

what it was like for me that day

to place a final kiss upon that box,

and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,

and I believe you do,

if you really want to help me,

here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,

reach out and take my hand,

Say "My friend, I've come to listen,

I want to understand."

Just hold my hand and listen

that's all you need to do,

And if by chance I shed a tear,

it's alright if you do to.

--Kelly Cummings

I love you Brienna Marie ...

Blahhhhh

I think I've become socially awkward. I so fear a surprise "we're pregnant!" from one of our friends that I just don't go out anymore. I know people might say that's no way to live, but I can't help it. P and I were thinking of seeing if friends of ours wanted to grab dinner tonight. And it was my idea until I thought "what if they're pregnant?" and then I would need to leave immediately and it just would not be good. I don't want to live this way ... but it's safer than being taken by surprise and not having my game face on.

I so wish I was pregnant. I need to run 10 miles this weekend and laid in bed all morning thinking "if I was pregnant, I'd have an excuse not to run" ... now, I'm just lazy and wishing I could do nothing all day. Can I blame Clomid? It seems reasonable, right? I also wonder if I'm depressed and debating calling Dr. M again ... she's awesome, and I don't want to need medicine, but if it means not living like this perhaps it's for the best. I think at this point, I'd do it more for P than for myself. It must suck for him to have a miserable wife. Poor guy.

Raw

I was talking to a friend that battled infertility for years, and she said it was hard to talk about because it was so raw. That is the perfect word to describe this. Raw. And vulnerable. And shitty. And lonely. I don't like to tell anyone in my real life how I feel, because I don't want to be judged. I hate being in my own head, let alone letting anyone else in ... I am miserable, yet I am fine. I function. I go to work. I clean the house, I do the laundry, shop for groceries. But at the same time, I am just broken. Inside, I am broken. And outside, I go through the motions. My daughter died nine months ago and it still hurts like a stab in the chest.

New Day, New Attitude

Ok, so it's a new day and I feel a little bit better. The sun was out all day today, so B and I went to the beach and I think it's just what I needed - P is skiing, I was at the beach. I love New England! I am still majorly bummed, but I don't hate the universe and I can see that things aren't really as terrible as I made them out to be yesterday. I do wish Bri.enna was here though. And I do wish we were pregnant :( I guess I just have to be positive and hope that this is the month.

Whiny Bitch

I am a whiny little bitch right now. You were warned.

I feel like I have regressed so much this week. I am miserable. I have zero energy to do anything and would like nothing more than to curl up in my bed and wake up six months from now. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to shower, I don't want to work, I don't want to run, I don't want to smile and I barely want to breathe. I just want to hide. I haven't felt like this in a while and I forgot how debilitating it is.

We found out friends of ours are pregnant with their second baby. Their daughter is 16 months old. Poor P had to tell me and I just started bawling. For the better part of an hour, he just held me and I sobbed. Why does everyone else get what I want so badly? Our girls were supposed to grow up together, but our daughter died. How is that fair? And now here they are, 13 weeks pregnant. It's been slowly killing me every time one of our friends giddily announces they're PREGNANT! With their first BABY! And are so EXCITED! I put on my game face and I'm happy for them. I am. I learned that it's okay to have more than emotion at the same time. But it sucks. I steeled myself for the round of first-timers, but I wasn't ready for the round of second-timers (despite a sneaking suspicion that they were in fact pregnant). I feel like we are so late to the party - which is fitting, because we are late for everything. Except work. I fear the day I am taken by surprise in public and someone will witness me cry that hideous cry you never want anyone to see.

My game face is cracking. I don't know how many more times I can take my heart being be ripped out of my body and stomped on. I am so tired of picking up the pieces and putting it back together. It sucks. And yes, I realize we still have a ways to go before we're even technically considered to be having "trouble". But everything just exacerbates that Bri.enna isn't here. And it sucks. More than I can possibly describe ...

I also got my period. Joy.

So that is why I am a whiny bitch. And I have to work tonight. And Sunday night. And we're supposed to go to a fundraiser for a friend and I just bailed. P is skiing with friends and going afterwards. I am going to wallow on the couch with the stack of Pringles I just bought. At least it's going to be 50 degrees out and I can take B to the beach. Sigh.

Olympic Gold!

At least that's what it feels like anyway :)

I finished the marathon!! I am so happy. I didn't let Bri.enna down. I'm pretty sure she even called in some favors for us. I struggle with whether or not certain things happen by pure chance or if maybe she had something to do with it. It's weird, but lately I'm just choosing to believe that these certain things are little gifts from my angel.

The weather was supposed to be miserable on Sunday. But by Saturday night, the forecast looked okay. And it was. A little cold, but the sun shone for awhile and the snow/rain/wind didn't really start until I crossed the finish line. Weird. There was so much traffic getting to the race on Sunday morning. We were at our wits end and rolled down the window to ask a parking attendant if she had any advice. As we asked, her walkie-talkie buzzed and she told us there was ONE space available in the lot we happened to be in front of. The lot directly in front of the start/finish line. Crazy weird.

The race itself was hard. I felt slow the entire time, and never really felt like I hit my sweet spot. It was a two-loop course primarily geared to the half marathoners. After mile 13, I was basically running alone. At mile 14, I realized just how solitary running is. And how it's something that only YOU can do. It was a neat feeling. At mile 17, I knew I could finish because I had single digit miles to go. At mile 20, I felt Bri.enna with me. It sounds insane, but I did. I just sensed her with me and in my head, could picture her on my shoulder helping me along. Like we were buddies ... and I started crying (had to force myself to stop because I feared an asthma attack and this genius didn't have an inhaler) but I also picked up the pace. And the next three miles were a breeze. I felt good and in my head, knew I just needed to get to 23 because P was meeting me there to run the last three. Miles 23-25 were torture. I had to walk a few times and had some uh, stomach issues, but at mile 25 I was able to see the light and just put my head down and ran. And running up that hill, seeing my family cheering me on and crossing that finish line was awesome. And then I started crying. Again. And P met me and scooped me up in a hug and just held me and let me cry.

I still cannot believe I did it. I wish I had taken the time to savor it more ... I did this. Me alone and I am really proud of that. I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. So thanks, baby girl. I owe it to you :)

P.S. My time was 4:38:44.  About 10 minutes slower than my "goal" but who gives a rat's ass - I finished a marathon!