Bad Days
Today is a bad day. I just feel so empty and lost… I think we both do this morning. The sky outside is blue, the world outside seems so normal. Even our house… with the dogs and the cats napping in their usual spots… just seems too normal. The silence accentuates what is missing.
Den and I talked last night about how you go from not thinking about him, then you feel guilty, then you think about him and it sucks the air right out of you with the grief. I realized how different his grief is from mine. I had Devin growing inside me, I got to experience everything first-hand. All he had were his hopes and dreams for after he was born, and they are all gone now. He lost everything. He doesn’t have those fond memories in the same way that I do. He is angry… angry at the world for taking this away from him. I tried to comfort him as best I can, but… I don’t know how much it helps. I worry that my way of grieving causes him more pain.
Last night was so freaking hard. I’ve started feeling really anxious when the sun sets. I may need to adjust my meds (which we knew might be a possibility), though right now I think the anxiety is understandable – I can tell the difference between hormonal imbalance anxiety and external events anxiety. Every evening Den and I have been turning on the TV and finding something to watch together… a movie, some Law and Order. It’s something that I can look forward to, in a way… some time just spent clinging to my husband.
I just hate the darkness so much. and last night we moved back into our bedroom… newly painted… but the same bed. Getting into bed was anguish. The same bed that, every night, I would sit up in with my laptop and watch my belly move around. It was “our” time together, Devin and I. And my heart ached so very, very badly to lay there and be alone in my body. God it hurt so much. I just cried on Den’s shoulder.
I slept all night pressed up against him. I think we used only half the king-size bed. I’ve also started feeling a lot of anxiety when I’m not in the same room as him. I need him near me. When I start feeling upset I go and find him, wherever he is in the house. The thought of him going back to work tomorrow (which is something he needs to do for himself, to keep busy) makes me feel extremely anxious. I’m not really sure how I’m going to get through that.
Today’s just one of those days where I can’t see any light at the end of this. I can’t see how on earth I’m going to keep getting through day after day of grief and get on with my life. I can’t see how my life will ever be “okay” again.
It’s the ups and then the downs that are the hardest I think. Like someone said in one of the comments on the other posts, grief isn’t linear. One day you’re okayish, and the next it feels as if you’ve hit rock bottom.
I think you need to be careful with upping the meds – grief is something you have to get through otherwise it’ll turn around and bite you in the butt later. All I am saying is, let yourself go through this one way or another. However much it hurts, there is a light at the other end of the tunnel. Someday.
Den’s anger – oh I can so relate. I talked a little bit about what happened to one of my good collegues today and I said just the same: that I was just so fucking angry at life for this thing happening to you. And if I feel angry … boy … I cannot fathom how angry Den must feel.
If you feel alone, know that there’s so many people out there wanting to lend a hand. Go online, talk to people. They won’t replace Den, but maybe it will keep you a little occupied until he’s back home from work.
I wish I could do or say anything else to help the pain go away …. :(
Btw, if you are bored, I’m turning back to blogging in English (bilingual actually) so you’ll have one more blog to read!
I came here from Grief is a Journey, and I am heartbroken about your loss. I can’t say anything to lessen your pain–only that I am thinking about you. I also can’t claim that I know what you’re going through, because I don’t. But I did lose my baby at 20 weeks four months ago. I know how unbearable pain can be.
I’m so sorry.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with M.E.N.D. or not (mommies enduring neonatal death), but it is a great support source and a way to connect with others. http://www.mend.org.
Again, I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry. I hope the nights get shorter for you. I would definitly get something for sleeep, without sleep its even harder to cope and go foward.
I totally agree with Ly. It sucks, but, it’s better to work through it. Maybe find something during the day to occupy you once Den goes back to work? The Shelter? Support groups? *hugs*
(((HUGS)))
Natalie, I am so sorry you are having a bad day. I told my husband about you last night because I can’t get you off my mind. You have taught me something about gifts. I feel so grateful to you and at the same time my heart aches so much for you. Every time I come here, I just cry. My husband and I are praying for peace in your household and mending in your and the hubby’s heart.
grief is so hard. and honestly, it never goes away. it just gets less raw. i cannot even fathom what you must be going through. this is all so freakin unfair. i am so, so, sorry.
I too have been thinking about you both nonstop. And I wish there was something I could do to take the pain away. :(
Lyanna’s right, too. It WILL be better someday. And I know you can’t see that right now. So in the meantime… take it a day, an hour, a minute at a time if you have to.
Thinking of you and sending you lots of love, Nat.
xxx
You will be okay again, someday, but I imagine it will be a different kind of okay, where you will continue to miss Devin each and every day. Nobody should have to go through what you’re experiencing, Natalie. I am angry, too. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
I’m sorry feels so inadequate.
I’m so glad that you have one another, and that you are able to take care of one another. You are continually in my thoughts.
This is just so heartbreaking. I am so happy that you have such a wonderful supportive husband and that you two are really there for each other. I just cant find the right words to say. But I am here for you and praying for your family. Us all at MLW really do care for you and love you. :::Hugs:::
*hugs*
*hugs*
I’ve prayed for you, Den and baby Devin every night, Natalie, and will continue to do so.
The three of you have been in my thoughts all weekend. No real words to say, just *hugs*.
I know that this is my first time posting on your site. I saw your link on Lost and found..and had to stop by. I’m so sorry and I’ll keep you in my thought and prayers. I know there is no magic words I can say. I haven’t been able to get pregnant yet, but can not imagine the loss if I do get blessed one day. lots of hugs and prayers,
I don’t know how you get to “Okay”, or even have a guess when it might be… but I’m sure you will eventually. In the meantime I’ll be here to virtually support you.
Natalie, I’ve never actually commented on your blog – long time reader though (LP). I wish there was some way I could take this all away and make it better. Words are not enough. you, Den and Devin have been constantly in my thoughts. I can’t fathom what you are going through and I wish there was just some way I could help. Lots of hugs.
Still thinking about you nonstop, babe. Huge hugs.
Lots of hugs.
I too can’t imagine what you are going through and just feel so much pain for you. Big hugs to you. Please know that you are in our thoughts and prayers and I pray for healing and peace from such a tragic loss.
I am very sorry for the loss of your son Devin. The pain is unbearable – as I too have been there before, almost a year ago. It’s ironic that you said 1 foot in front of the other – I used to whisper to myself, left right left right – because sometimes I would forget. I will be praying for you and your family..
I found your site thru Mel at Stirrup Queens. I’m so sorry for your loss. My first pregnancy ended at the same time as your sons and I found out exactly the same way you did – at a random 9 month doctors appointment – no heartbeat. The doctors never found out an exact reason for the death either, although a cord accident was suspected.
The nights where the worst for me as well after my loss. This grieving takes time and is exhausting in itself.
For me it took about 9 months to start feeling anywhere near my “normal” self and then at the year anniversary it got hard again. You will get there though.
Talk about it as much as you need to to people who will understand. Be kind to yourself and your husband.
If I can help you in anyway, you can email me at malky@benedictfamily.org.
I am so so sorry, i have no words. I just wanted you to know how sorry i am….
(((((holdingyousafe)))))))) xx
I am so very sorry… so sorry.
May God give you the strength to get through the coming days.
I am so sorry about the loss of your son. I lost my daughter at 38 weeks, two days before a scheduled c-section. Two years later, there are still no clear answers. I can tell you that your life will never be the same. But after a few months of anguish, anxiety, fear, hopelessness and feeling like you are insane, the horrible edges of the grief starts to soften a little. There is a whole blogland of mothers in your position. You can find many here:
http://babylossdirectory.blogspot.com/
Take care.
Nat, I am continuing to read your blog and let you share your feelings with me. I’m glad you have this outlet.
Somehow you will find the way to go on. I know it will be probably the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do, but I have faith that you will do it because you are so strong.
((hugs))
I’ve been reading the last few days and haven’t commented because I didn’t know the right thing to say.
Just know there is one more person out here thinking of your family and supporting you as much as a stranger across the internet can. Much peace to your family in this incredibly difficult time.
Please have Den find someone for you to go talk to.
It is unbearable and you will never be back to who you were before all of this. It is a hard hard road but you are so blessed to have a wonderful husband to lean on. I think maybe if you voice to him that you are not ready to be alone maybe he can work half days, do not attempt to be strong here… you lean hard on his shoulder and cry. I just am so heart broken for you.
Many people will try to make it better or tell you it is for the best or .. it is what god wanted. I was furious when I heard that… my child is suppose to be here with me not anywhere else.. it is not for the best and I am not going to get over this. In time you will learn to live in a way that you can not think you can now, you will be able to pick yourself up and go through your day I promise but it will take time.
If you want, give him my MSN stuff, Nat. Not sure if I can help or if he wants to chat, but if I can help in any way, you know I will.
Hope you liked the music too!
Just want you to know another one is here to hold you up in prayer and to hold you up standing with you during this time – I’m so glad to read every word, that you are expressing yourself… leaning on your hubby… and getting through this awful thing moment by moment. My loss so pales in comparison though I felt a teeny bit of loss back then — and how I felt so hopeless some days and hopeful others… It has to get better… We ALL LOVE YOU.
I feel so helpless. I look forward to your updates. Please know that I am hurting with you so much. I wish I knew something to help…but I am here.
I hated the night because it when I began replaying everything, every last flipping second, in my head, in slow motion. And I couldn’t turn it off, and I couldn’t fall asleep. Here most women with newborns are craving sleep, and here I am, no newborn, craving sleep. Go figure. Please know it will pass.
My husband also occasionally pulls out the “but you got to bond during pregnancy” card, and I had a very different pregnancy from you it sounds like — it was extremely stressful, and I managed (I thought) to emotionally distance myself from the baby whom I thought I was going to lose at many points along the way. So I really don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m glad you had that time though, it says a lot about you.
Life may not every be the blissful, naively optimistic thing that is was (if it ever was, for you), but it will be ok. You will hurt under the ok, but it will be ok. Abiding with you.
You don’t know me, I’ve been an anonymous reader of your blog for a long time now.
Just reading about little Devin and the pain you and your husband have been going through is enough to put me in tears.. You have my deepest sympathies.
I have nothing close to comparison to your situation, I can only imagine. Even so, you and your son and husband are in my prayers.
Natalie, I have been thinking about you, Den and Devin nonstop since I read the news on LP. My tears have come and gone over the past few days. I am so sorry for your loss….all I want to do is hop in the car and drive out to you,hug you and not let go. I am not that far from you so please let me know if there is ANYTHING I can do for you.
~lisa~wolfhaley~
I came here from LIW. I am so sorry for you and your husband, though saying that seems so trite and… inadequate.
I guess I just wanted to let you know that your story has touched me and I am thinking of you and your family.
I just wanted you to know that both Chris and I are constantly thinking about you. We are grieving for your little boy together (though I haven’t shown him the post before this, thinking about Den is tearing me apart, I don’t know if Chris could take it) and both wish we could do more.
Love, Jaci
I was (and still am) convinced that the early part was harder on my husband, for the exact reason you are talking about– I got to have my son grow inside me, and he was just waiting, but also because I had something to do at each step– give birth, heal physically, deal with the milk. All he could do was go to the store to buy more cabbage and some cold packs. There have been points since when I was clearly in worse shape than he was. Very nonlinear.
I found “okay” to be reachable. It was a different ok, very different, but I found what felt like a functional level. Good and happy, now those are the challenges I am not always up to, and really think these are not coming back in the same way as before.
I have no words for you. I am so sorry for your loss. Please know that someday the pain will lessen
I really don’t have any words of comfort for you. I’m so sorry you are going through this. My heart is beaking with you. I hope tomorrow isn’t as anxiety ridden as you are worried about.
I just want to give you a big ass hug! Lots of love your way. xox
You will be okay and get through it sweetheart. Even though it doesn’t feel like it now. A part of you will always belong to Devin, but eventually time will manage to heal even the deepest of wounds. Like what has been said, pain is never linear.
I go to sleep every night thinking of you, Den, & Devin. I am completely honest when I say you guys haven’t left my thoughts for a day. I continue to pray that somehow in all of this you will eventually find peace.
I’m still thinking and praying for both of you. Never forget this. If you need to find something to do while Den is at work, find a hobby, find a friend to talk to, find a professional to help you process this grief. If necessary, do this last one together with Den. Of course, he has to want it too.
In the meantime, my prayers are with all three of you in your time of need *HUGS*
Your husband sounds wonderful, and you are stronger than you think. I’m blown away (in a good way) that you would share your feelings and grief on your blog, you’re a terrific writer and I feel like I know you from reading your story. Praying for you guys.
I have been following you since back in the FF days. I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I hope the best for you and Den during this time. Lots of hugs coming your way. Stay strong sweetie.
Nights are oh, so hard, I’ve learned. I can be fine all day long, then get in bed and completely break down. I guess it’s because that’s when we let our guard down and it all floods out from behind the gates. I’m trying very hard to pick one really happy memory, one moment when everything was perfect and focus on that when the bad memories hit. Sometimes I can do it and that happy moment drowns out the awfulness. Sometimes, it isn’t enough.
I wonder a lot about how Shannon is processing all of this, too. Where I talk about it, write about it, dwell on things constantly, he holds it all in. I think all we can do is just keep being there for them. Let them know that not only is it ok for them to talk to us if they need it but that sometimes, we need them to talk to us. Just hold each other tight through the night.
Small steps. That’s all we can do. Don’t think about getting through today, think about getting through this minute. When the waves come, and they do, don’t fight them. Rage and scream and cry. I’ve learned that you can even do that sitting at your desk in a busy office and no one will notice, as long as the screaming is just inside your head.
I don’t know how we get through this to the other side. I don’t know where “normal” is anymore. While our backs were turned, someone moved the bar. All I know is that we go from breath to breath. When the good days come, revel in them and when the bad days come, try to remember that they will pass.
Feel free to email if you like. I don’t have any answers, but if you feel the need to have someone keep you company who is just as lost in the darkness, I’m here.
This sentence gave me such pause: “The silence accentuates what is missing.” I’m so sorry, Natalie. I wish there were good words.
I just found your blog via Lost and Found. I am so incredibly sorry for the loss of your son Devin. I am sitting here at work crying as I read through your posts. Your story sounds so familiar to mine, from the love of being pregnant, to the u/s tech saying “I’m sorry..”. I am only three months out on this journey, and it has been hell. I think the most overwhelming thing to me is the thought that we will forever feel this loss. I can be having a good moment, and then instantly lose it as I think of my daughter. I hope that the women who have been through this before us are right, and that this gets easier to live with as time goes on. I am thinking of you and your husband, Denis (which is my husband’s first name too, spelled the same way!) and wishing you peace, strength and courage to get through this.
I wish I could make the bad days go away.
A friend of mine lost her son in the same way. I felt so helpless because there was no way to take the pain away.
There is a retreat center in northern Wisconsin for grieving families, http://www.faithslodge.org/GuestInfo.asp. It may be too soon for something like this, but I wanted to make you aware of it.
You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Hello – I found your website randomly today, and I’ve read your story and my heart just breaks for you. I’ve cried reading your last few posts. The EXACT same thing happened to me with my first baby, Liam, two years ago. It was, and still is absolutely devastating. I know that I’m a total stranger, but if you ever need to talk to anyone who has been through it, you can e-mail me at any time. If you would like to read my still birth story it is here: http://www.geekxnerd.com/archives/11-2005.html. Anything I can do to offer comfort, please don’t hesitate to contact me.
Natalie and Den ~ I found your blog through Mel…I just spent the last hour reading your most recent posts and wanted to tell you that Devin will never be forgotten. He was not only known to you and your family, but also to your online friends who got to know him through your writing. We grieve with you.
Hi there,
I just read about your loss and am so sorry. On March 3, I heard those same words…I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat in your little boy…I was 19 weeks…out of the woods, or at least that’s what they told me about two months ago.
I went through two and a half years of infertility, and finally got pregnant with twins through IVF…my little girl is still looking good, and we’ve made it one more week—I’m now 20 weeks in a singleton pregnancy but my little boy remains inside…and will renain there until my daughter is born. It’s beyond comprehension for me.
I also have a blog and have used it to process all the emotions that have gone along with infertility, pregnancy, and loss. I hope you and your family are hanging in there and again, I’m so sorry for your loss.
Andrea
Natalie ~
I posted a comment the other day. I found your blog via someone else’s blog on FF. I just thought I’d be a little less anonymous. I wanted you to know that you are in my thoughts. I know that this critical time after your loss is most difficult. Feeling empty and lost is part of the shock, obviously. It leaves a gaping hole in your heart. I am so relieved to hear that you and your husband are clinging to each other. The days my husband and I did this have bound us together eternally. You reminded me to cling to my husband again. We’ve been grieving again and you inspired me. I’m just so very sorry that you lost your sweet Devin. Utterly sorry. I’m sure you never imagined that a group of perfect strangers could unite and hold your hand and hopefully hold you up.
Nat…this is Kel’s mom again, I hope you are doing ok. My thoughts are with you everyday. I am not sure if you know yet, but Kel had the baby tonight, John just called me. Daniel Joseph was born at 8:12 by cesarean section, I am a wreck, Both Kel and the baby are ok, she is resting and baby is in neonatal care just for precautions. Lots of tests to be done because he is premature. Again, my thoughts are with you and Denis too, and I send my love your way. Love Karen
My thoughts are still with you and Denis. Hope that you made it through his first day back at work ok.