{Dis}Organized Thought

I've had a hard time organizing my thoughts lately.  As I mentioned, I've been irritable, unmotivated and generally just blah. I find myself getting caught up in the pettiness at where I work; I'm stressed/annoyed more easily than I'd like to be and it's really been weighing on me.  It seems like I'm easily swept along the path of negativity, which hasn't been the case for a long time.

I had a much needed appointment with my 'crazy lady' yesterday and I think I figured out what's really been going on.  It was one of those moments when I was talking and then all of a sudden I was sobbing.  For me, when the truth comes out, or I figure something out, tears are usually involved.  It's almost like my cue that I've hit the nail on the head.

So yesterday on my ride up to the appointment, I started thinking about why I'm bothered by the way I've been feeling.  In the past, I'd get caught up in the gossip at work or an ongoing family feud.  But for the past three or so years, I didn't let myself get involved in other people's drama.  I did not have the energy, nor the inclination. The negativity went in one ear and out the other.  I barely even thought about it because I was too emotionally spent from my own existence.  Brienna had given me the perspective I needed to essentially not give a shit because it truly just wasn't important.

I figured out that by getting caught up in nonsense, I feel like I'm betraying Brienna.  I feel like I should be above all this negativity because I know it's not important.  And letting myself get swept along makes me feel like I'm losing my perspective and therefore forgetting about Brienna and all she has taught me.  Part of this all stems from the fact that despite being blah and down this week and last, I've generally been happy.  I am content.  I didn't know if I'd ever truly feel that way again.  When you're mourning the loss of someone you love, you almost relish in that acute pain.  You welcome the outbursts of anguish because it's a tangible connection to the person you lost.  For a long time, I didn't want the pain of losing Brienna to go away.  Ever.  I wanted to always feel it, because it would mean she was still a part of me and that I wasn't letting go.  And I think being happy makes me feel like I'm letting go.  And I don't know how to do that; I don't want to let go.  I don't even know what I'm letting go of.  Is it the pain of losing her?  The lessons she taught me?  Is it finally giving myself "permission" to be happy?  I don't know.  I know that she is a part of me in the truest sense.  She made me who I am.  Why is it that sadness makes me feel connected to her?  Why does it feel like I'm dishonoring her by being happy?

I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face because I have no idea how to answer these questions.  I know time heals and that how I incorporate grief into my life is is not a static thing.  It constantly changes shape.  But I think it feels like if the lessons she taught me are harder to live by, it somehow lessens the impact she had on my life.  I don't even know if that makes sense.  I was reminded yesterday that I'm still human.  That this is a process.  And that it's okay to feel the way I do ...

Painful Reality

I thought I had resigned myself to the fact that this miscarriage was going to happen. I thought I was okay with it, that I could handle it and that everything was going to be okay. I was painfully wrong.

I had been spotting/bleeding since about Monday. I called to check in with the MD like they told me to and was basically just waiting. Friday morning, bleeding seemed to really increase. I was trying to be "normal" and was preparing to go out and run some errands when I figured I'd call the doctor's office. Typically, I call in, ask for the nurse's line and leave a message. Everyone there has been nothing but nice to both Pat and I. This time, however, was different. When I reached the nurse's line to leave a message, I said who I was and that I was calling in as asked to provide an update on the progress of my miscarriage. The woman on the phone paused and then said "um yeah ... this is an INFERTILITY clinic." I paused in disbelief as tears welled up in my eyes and said, "yes, I realize that. I've been there for months and calling to check in for the past two weeks". Without saying a word, she transferred me to someone else so I could leave a message for the nurse to call me back. I was stunned and pissed and amazed that anyone could so easily disregard the fact that a person was having a miscarriage.

After I left a message, I was so sad and teary that I decided to not go out. Which ended up being a very good thing. I laid on the couch and decided to watch a movie. I wasn't feeling very good, and started having some serious cramping. The nurse called back at that point, and I told her how I was feeling, etc. Things were fine. About an hour later, the pain was so bad, I threw up (only other time that's ever happened was in labor). I was doubled over in pain and so nervous, because I had no idea what was supposed to be happening. I was crying at that point and called the nurse back and she assured me this was normal and called in an Rx for Vicodin and Zofran for me. I called Pat at work and he left early to pick them up for me.

The pain had majorly decreased at this point and I went to the bathroom again, because it seemed like the only thing to do. As I peed, I passed these huge blood clots. I was scared, so picked them out of the toilet to examine them. I didn't know what to do, but was crying and just so sad. By the time Pat got home, the pain wasn't enough to need medicine. I felt physically okay. Mentally, I felt so defeated. I knew that wasn't the end of it, but at least knew what had caused the pain. The nurse had told me, if the Vicodin doesn't control the pain, go to the ER and if the pain lasts more than 24 hours, go to the ER. Luckily, that wasn't necessary.

Later that night, as I was wiping from going to the bathroom, I felt more clot that wouldn't come off on the tissue. This is so gross, but it was this huge hunk of tissue that I basically had to pull out of myself because it was stuck there. I have no idea if that was the right thing to do or not ... but I couldn't just leave it there. That seemed like the worst of it, but now I feel some pretty serious cramping again. I'm still passing clots and just passed more tissue. I have no idea if this is normal or not. I'm not doubled over in pain by any means (I'm blogging, so it clearly isn't bad), but this is how things started on Friday and I'm worried about what that means. Should I take some pain meds to stay on top of it? Or will doing that mask the symptoms?

With everything that's happened, I feel like there is a black cloud following me. I'm petrified I'm going to hemorrhage or something. Like if something can go wrong, it will. Because it's me. I'm petrified something is going to happen to Pat or Bailey. I'm just a wreck in general. Part of me says "it's just a miscarriage". The other part of me is devastated. I feel so empty and defeated. Not like when Brienna died, but empty nonetheless. And inadequate. And just sad. I see the doctor again on Wednesday and kinda wish it was tomorrow. I just wish I knew what was normal ... that I knew if this was supposed to be happening.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I thought it would be relatively pain-free. How wrong I was ... on so many levels.

A Pair of Shoes

A Pair of Shoes
Author Unknown

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes, you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.

Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes, I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost her child.

To say I hate my shoes is an understatement. At times, it is almost unbearable to wear them. Other times, I feel numb to them. Today marks three months since Brienna was born. I miss her and ache for her. I am sad today. I worry that people think I should be moving on, shouldn't be as sad anymore. But I can't help it ... I am sad and wish my baby was here with me. All day today, I've been getting texts from my family and friends, telling me that they are thinking about me. They make me feel better, and I am lucky to have them in my life. Knowing that other people love and hurt for Brienna comforts me ... it helps validates my feelings in a way. Nothing can take the pain away, but it helps take the loneliness away, and I am thankful for that. Tomorrow is a new day, one that will hopefully be brighter. But today, I am sad.

I love you and miss you Brienna Marie ...