From numbness and back again
Today is Den’s first day back at work. I most definitely feel better able to handle it than I did last week – we are both very glad he took the time off. I am struggling, but am not having panic attacks.
I have felt on the edge of tears all day. I’ve had to go through my RSS blog reader and temporarily remove blogs just so I didn’t get a constant reminder. I’ll read something about a baby and burst out crying. Why does everyone get to bring home a healthy baby but me? I deserve my little boy too. I want my little boy.
I still struggle with the desperate need inside to turn back time somehow – I want to go back and fix it. I want to wake up from this nightmare. I’m still stunned that somehow all of this got taken away from us. I was finally getting out of the hole, my life was finally falling into place. I was finally getting over my feelings of anger and bitterness. And now I’m right back here again. Worse, in some ways. I had it. I had it RIGHT in front of me. And just like that…… it’s gone.
I want so badly to get pregnant again. I’m absolutely terrifed that we will be stuck in another 2 years of hell again and I just can’t handle that. It might be different if we knew I could just get pregnant like normal people. But I know everyone in this situation has a different response… some couples don’t feel anywhere close to being able to handle pregnancy again for a long time. That’s not us.
It hurts so goddamn much I feel like my heart is being torn out. I’ve spent a lot of time being numb the last week…. and to be honest I feel myself clinging to that numbness a lot of the time because the pain hurts so much. I know I have to grieve to heal, but at the same time I know the numbness is my mind’s way of protecting itself from completely falling apart.
I just sit here looking at his picture, bawling my eyes out. I miss him so very, very much…. my precious, perfect little boy. I am in awe that we made such a beautiful little creature. I’d give anything to have him here with us now.
That numbness is there to help protect your heart. It is ok to embrace it. You will grieve for a long time to come. It is ok to sometimes just take a break from the grief. Hugs you tight.
jen
Honey, I am so sorry. I wish your heart would feel better. He was perfect and you can always remember him that way. I wish I had magical words to make you feel better or a magical clock to turn back time. I wish I would have told you to go into the hospital immediately when you told us he wasn’t moving as much. I feel kind of bad that I didn’t, that we all didn’t. I am so sorry! I hope you have a miracle pregnancy, all on your own. I can understand wanting to get pregnant right away. I would too! Hugs to you!
I wish he were with you too. More than anything.
Dear, sweet girl. I know you must be inconsolable. I am so sorry. I’m holding you in my thoughts, hoping for some shred of peace for you.
There’s always some variation isn’t there, something that sets one apart from the other people with dead babies. But please know that many of us also struggle with infertility (and other crap), and believe me, I know the immense chasm that lies in front of you, of wanting and not knowing if it’s possible. And it’s awful. It’s not fair, it’s terrible, and I’m so sorry.
((Hugs))
I can’t really come up with much else and I sorry about that.
Just thinking about you and shedding some tears for all that will never be. I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry natalie. I wish your little boy was there with you too.
I know it’s so hard to suffer loss after infertility and then have to deal with the uncertainty of the future, the chasm as tash said. it’s not fair and it does suck and I am also so very sorry. just wish this could be easier. ~luna
You’re right: You DO deserve to have your baby boy here with you now. It is TERRIBLY unfair. I wish I do something to fix it.
I’ve been wanting to say something about you getting pregnant again but just didn’t feel like it was the right time. However, since you’ve mentioned it here, I am assuming it is ok to write about it. As you said, your issue was with egg maturity. As such, if you don’t get pg within a few months of TTC again, I think a consult with a new RE is in order. I think you would probably benefit from some kind of protocol designed to help your eggs mature before they are O’d. However, you don’t have sperm issues. And obviously your lining is fine. So I’m very inclined to think that an injects + timed intercourse cycle might work well for you – maybe a protocol similar to what they use for minimal stim IVF? The key would be to make sure you don’t O too early. Give those eggs time to ripen before they are released. Yes injects are expensive but compared to IVF it’s peanuts. Just my $0.02.
It’s not fair, and it’s devastating to hear about other enjoying their healthy babies. I am sorry you have to suffer the stress of infertility on top of this. My heart really goes out to you..
De-lurking to say that you guys remain in my thoughts. I’m so sorry for all you have been through.
So sorry to hear that you and your husband are going through this….my heart is breaking for you. You have been in my thoughts and prayers (and will continue to be). May you find the strength to get through this and move on, somehow…….
I’m so sorry for all you and your husband have had to go through. You’re in my prayers. (((hugs)))
When I lost Audrey, the thing that helped the most was to find other people who knew where I was. People who lost their babies too. Not everyone’s story is the same. But everyone knows the searing pain. The offer stands for a talk or an email anytime. I can listen, I can talk, I can do both or I can do nothing. Mostly, I’m just sad and sorry. There is no magoc pill or word, it sucks. And, it sucks for a very long time. Time does help heal and I know you are still so close to this that saying that may just piss you off. I hope not. I lost Audrey and spent the better part of 3 years trying to get pregnant again. I know the fear you talk about here. It is paralyzing.
I think of you often and hope you think about my offer, I’m here. Drop a line.
Hugs,
M
I am so, so sorry for the loss of your son. To suffer through this loss and face the uncertainly of IF all over again is difficult at best. It sucks ass really. I am thinking of you and your husband.
I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you. I hope you can find some strength. I’m glad to hear you are doing a little better, but don’t be too hard on yourself for feeling bad, sad, mad and not wanting to read about others’ successes. I don’t like reading success stories either.
Oh Natalie:
Hold on, the days get easier (not better, but easier.) It won’t always hurt this much. I promise you. When we lost Gabriel, we realized that grieving is so much like suffering an accute trauma in your life. It hurts like hell at first, then it eases day by day. Eventually, we hope it only twinges. Mr. Spit’s first day back at work was brutal for us both. Get through each day as best you can. We are both thinking of you.
Mrs. Spit.
Oh, Natalie, I just can’t imagine how difficult this is for you. He should be here with you.
I am sure fellow bloggers understand if you need time away from good news and baby posts.
I remember when I lost my last pregnancy, I had that lovely numbness for a few days. I treasured it and had fantasies of how I could hold on to it. I think it’s a normal part of grieving, and certainly nothing to feel badly over.
Let me start by saying I can never compare my situation to yours. We lost our boy at 20 weeks last November (he had a diagnosis that was incompatible with life). We hadn’t even gotten through his memorial service and I was already thinking about trying again. I felt like I was very different from others who had experienced loss, but my husband reminded me that the loss of “the plan” was just as terrible for me as the loss of our son. The only way, for me, to get “the plan” back was to try again.
I totally understand your feelings. I’m so sorry your child was snatched away from you.