Not Good, Not Bad, Just Cloudy
You know what I hate? The blah days. The ones that aren’t crap by any stretch of the imagination – I’m not bawling, I’m not going out of my mind. But it’s definitely not good either. I just feel blah. (I blame the weather; it’s been raining and grey, and I always feel depressed when it’s like this.) There’s really not much to say. At least when I’m feeling emotionally miserable I have things to write about. I find myself going from forum to forum, reading and not posting. That is so not like me.
I really hate the waiting. I have never been a patient person in the best of times… and these are not the best of times. When I was pregnant every week was a week closer, every week brought new physical changes, every week was new. When I was doing IVF the cycle had a schedule, medications to track, hospital visits to make. But this waiting, it sucks. Not only am I waiting for my period, but I don’t even know when it is coming.
I have to say, I am a little irritated with my husband lately because he is doing far better than I am. I mean, it’s good that he’s doing well, don’t get me wrong – I was really worried about him for a while, worried about how losing our son would weigh him down. I had this whole post half-written in my head about how he’s been dealing with things, how he hurts, how he finally gets the frustration and jealousy I felt all the time during infertility towards those who have babies easily. And then one day he says to me out of the blue, “You know, I’m over that whole jealousy thing. Other peoples’ success doesn’t affect us.” And that was that in his head. Oh he’s still sad, he’ll forver hurt for what we’ve lost. But now he’s being irritatingly positive about the future. He gives me little pep talks about how it’ll happen for us again, and how we can’t let the loss of Devin prevent us from enjoying the rest of our lives. He’s right. Sure. But damnit, some nights I don’t want to be positive. I know he’s nervous about me relapsing in my depression, and unfortunately for him it’s not always easy to tell the difference between a bad day and depression. When I get upset I can see the look of worry in him, the nervousness that maybe this time I won’t come out of it. I just hope he can trust me enough to rant and rail when I need to. Even if I need to pull out Devin’s things and weep for a while. Sometimes I just feel like I’m stuck at a halfway point and I can’t move forward until I face things from the past.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my future pregnancy, whenever it may happen. I think the possible ovuation pains got me thinking about it in a more real way instead of a hypothetical way. It’s scary as much as comforting. There is more worry beyond all the worries about the pregnancy itself, the very real fear that something will go wrong again. Like I thought what if I do get pregnant soonish, when I’m still in the midst of grief. Won’t that take away from the pregnancy? Doesn’t my second child deserve more than that? Then I think about that second child and I’m just overwhelmed by a [stupid, irrational] fear that somehow the second one won’t measure up to Devin. I had this image of Devin, of what he would be, and he will always be perfect in my head; what if the next kid just isn’t good enough? Will I be able to treasure the next child like I did Devin? For some reason I think my next one is going to be a girl. And I feel disappointed by that thought – and then overwhelmingly guilty for being disappointed. I wanted a boy, I got so used to the idea of having a boy, so proud of being a boy-mama… I’m brutally honest here: I’m terrified that I won’t be a good enough mom to my next baby, that losing Devin has taken away something from me that I won’t be able to find again.
When I think about my fears in an objective way I realize they’re the same ones that people having their second child have, the very simple fear that you won’t love the second one the way you love the first one. And yet somehow everyone does. And the fears about it being a girl, well, it might very well be a boy, and that brings with it its own set of issues. I just have to trust that somehow, when it happens, it will all feel right. Just like how I struggled at first with Devin being a boy, but I came to embrace it, love it. Whatever or whoever my next child is, I will adapt.
I’ve been thinking more about asking my primary care doctor to set me up with a therapist/psychologist. I didn’t feel I needed one until last week. When that numbness went away, well, things have been feeling harder. Like all the fears, like dealing with SIL’s pregnancy, like my hubby dealing better than I am. Now I didn’t have much luck the last time I saw a therapist (when I was first diagnosed) – I felt like I was politely explaining things to a stranger. I didn’t get a whole lot of feedback and I certainly didn’t feel like I walked out of our sessions any better than I walked in. Maybe it was just a bad match, I don’t know. Maybe my writing and online support groups are just more my style – writing has always been easier for me than talking.
The other issue is that I’m a little concerned about money. There’s the chiroprator (whom I still haven’t gone back to see since Devin died), the dentist (I have an appointment tomorrow and I know I will be needing work on my teeth in the future, not all of which is covered), and then a therapist? Not to mention when I get pregnant again I’ll be seeing the same midwives at the hospital which of course has that lovely additional co-pay for “outpatient services” tacked on to every single damn visit. I know my health is important and I’m trying to do everything I can, but damnit, the US system really makes you not want to take care of yourself proactively.
So yeah, dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. Just the initial intake x-rays and history, next week is my oral exam with the dentist herself. I finally got added to Den’s insurance, but I have my doubts as to when it’ll kick in so we may be shit out of luck for tomorrow’s visit – but I really can’t put this off any longer. My teeth are still hurting and I need to get everything taken care of before I get pregnant. I may have some cavaties to get filled (I haven’t seen a dentist in 4 years, I’ll be shocked if there’s nothing wrong), and I’m willing to bet they’re going to want to remove my wisdom teeth (yep, still have all four of them) – the idea of getting them remove always made me freak the hell out (did I mention I severely dislike dentists?), but after losing Devin… well, removing some wisdom teeth doesn’t sound quite so scary anymore. And I can see the problems it’s causing in my jaw, too. Sigh.
I have to say though, when the numbness left me so did the desire to take care of my body. I have had very little appetite for a week… I can eat if there’s food in front of me, but the actual desire to eat is null and void. I really have to force myself to get something out of the kitchen or I will go an entire day eating just a granola bar and bowl of cereal. I have little energy for exercising, eating, showering… and when I think about the things I ought to do there’s that voice in my head that says, “Why bother?” And some days I just can’t come up with a good enough answer.
I’m hear and reading. Just found you.
if you’re feeling the ‘why bothers’ or even having the thoughts of seeing a therapist, get in to see someone. especially if you already deal with depression. you’re going through the hardest loss someone can go through, plus you have just lost a load of hormones that you’ve had pumping through you for 8 months. you have a triple whammy. please go seek help. it’s not worth it, not to. if they think you’re fine, then you can stop. but you may end up feeling so much better.
and remember, we all deal with loss and our hormones differently. some mom’s have a hard time postnatal. and we all deal with loss differently. my husband was strong and present. he had to work and stay busy. i could tell he was heartbroken, but he stayed working and active while i simply fell apart. i cried all the time, i woke up with nightmares, bawling. i couldn’t get my wits about me. i stopped eating too. i was numb. my emotions, my hunger, my drive…i was completely numb to everything but my loss.
please take care of yourself. Devin would want you to. Den wants you to. you’re in pain and lost in your sorrow, but remember how many people out there love you and are pulling and praying for you. i know it’s hard to see right now, but there is a tomorrow.
go see someone. are there any free support groups for grieving parents at your hospital? try to find something.
also, remember that your ‘stress cup’ is full right now. ANY little thing will set you off and send your cup overflowing. now isn’t the time to try and be strong. after losing Jorai, everything would set me off. i was a time bomb waiting to explode. you don’t want to explode.
you’re in my thoughts.
I once had a mother tell me that she wasn’t sure how she would bond with her second child because she was so in love with her first. How could she possibly love this child just as much? She told me that the love in her heart multiplied. It didn’t split in half to divide up between the two. And that statement has always stuck with me for some reason.
I agree that therapy might be a good idea. It can’t hurt to try it. And if the boards and your blog are more helpful for you in the long run, you can always discontinue the visits.
I’m thinking of you always. XOXO
I think a therapist could really do you some good, providing that you find the right one. It’s someone who is completely objective (or should be) who can take anything you throw at them.
And I think that your husband and my husband handle grief the same way, which is, of course, different that you and I do. And that does make it hard to feel like you’re on the same page.
Kristin really said exactly what I would have said. It’s such a hard thing when you have the ‘next’ child. Will I love it as much, will he/she compare, will I bond with him or her right away??? It’s a fear that’s natural until you hold your baby boy or girl and then all of that fear you had seems insignificant. I’ll be honest…I didn’t bond with my son right away after he was born (my daughter was born after we lost our son). I think part of it was he was unexpected and the other part was that he was a boy and since we lost our first son I just had such a hard time with having another boy. I felt like I was trying to replace him but I did snap out of it quickly and I’m very greatful he’s with us now.
I do think therapy is a good idea. I personally went through it as our insurance covered so many sessions and it helped just a bit. More than anything support groups and people that had been through loss before really helped me to move forward. I hope you find the support you are looking for in way way or another Natalie.
Honestly? I think a therapist is a great idea. You need someone who has experienced a loss or infertility too. But my therapist has been the best thing that has happened to me. I think it is money well spent because it will last a lifetime. You don’t have to go every week. But it’s so important to find someone who can understand and listen and tell you it’s okay to be pissed off and angry and sad and everything else. I think it would be really good for you (because it was so good for me and T).
Rachel… I hadn’t even thought about seeking a therapist who has personal experience. That would be a LOT more helpful than someone who is just trying to understand where I’m coming from and giving platitudes.
Any and every child you have in the future is not replacing Devin, therefore you’ll treat them with AS MUCH love as you would have treated him. They will be their own separate being(s).
You’ll probably hold them tighter, kiss them more, gaze upon their face(s) constantly… Don’t doubt yourself, sweetie! Any children you do have will not be forsaken by their mother.
Just wanted to say that I am still here and reading. Think of you all the time.
I’ve been in the “My Body Doesn’t Matter” thing now for a year. I snapped out with my foot, because I need that better in order to lose weight. And I’m only just now snapping out of it with my skin (brutally damaged by two full term pregnancies), my teeth, my OB, and (gulp) my mam. Gotta make all those. Oh, and getting my eyes checked out wouldn’t be a bad thing either.
As for the husband: I don’t mean to be debbie downer, but just to keep in the back of your head — a lot of husbands “do well” in the initial period because their wives are not. They sort of keep the inertia of the couple moving forward, do things their wives can’t, etc. So to you, and in fact to a lot of people outside, it looks as though they’re doing fine, better, etc. And then you start feeling better, and this gives them a bit of room to finally feel things and they crash. And they’re upset (I was doing so well!) and you’re confused because you finally feel better, and the people on the outside can’t figure it out for the life of them.
Hang in there.
If you are thinking of seeing a therapist please just go for it. I was sort of pushed by my sister (she has her masters in psych) and am so glad I did. Your body has been through so much physically and emotionally, hormonally too. A therapist can help make sense of all those changes. Hang in there and know some days will be better than others. Sending hope for better days ahead.