The other side looking in
I feel sick to my stomach.
I’ve been feeling anxious ever since Thursday, when I learned that something might be wrong with my coworker’s baby. Which, now that I think about it, may have contributed to my mass meltdown this weekend. I just felt such dread in the pit of my stomach. Everyone else could say, “Oh it will probably be fine!” but I know too much. I really, really hoped I was wrong.
I desperately want to do something, but I don’t know her very well. People deal with grief differently, maybe she just wants to be left alone with her husband to deal. I gave her my number and told her to call me, but I know from experience that sometimes making a call is just too much to handle. I don’t want to intrude, but I want to make sure they know they are supported. I want them to know that even if the rest of the world doesn’t understand, I do. I have some baby loss books and other resources, and I think I’m going to deliver them to her… I’m just not sure when.
Being on the other side of grief is hard… harder than I thought. In some ways it would be easier if it was a close friend or family member.. then I’d have a better idea of how the person dealt with things, and what they would appreciate. Right now I feel like I’m just staggering in the dark and hoping I do something helpful along the way.
::
My plan was always to test on Tuesday morning. I’ve spent the evening wondering if I even should. It’s so strange to be the one whose life is moving forward when someone else’s stands still. What if it is positive? It feels so wrong to walk into work on Wednesday and announce happy news in the midst of this horror. Maybe to everyone else it wouldn’t seem weird. But it feels like a time of mourning, not joy.
And of course it could just as easily be negative. More bad news. I feel too drained right now to get too upset… remembering that there are worse things than not getting pregnant in the first place. I am in a different place tonight. I am scared – not of not getting pregnant, but of reliving loss. Of reliving the fear. In some ways the fear scares me more than the grief.
And then I think about taking a test and staring at it as my hand shakes, watching as no line shows up after 1 minute, 2 minutes, 4… and I feel sick to my stomach all over again.
I do not know what the morning will bring. I’m not even sure I’m ready to face it yet.
Whatever choice you make – with your co-worker, with the test – will be the right one, as it’ll be the one that you make with the best of your ability and knowledge. Much love to you.
From a gentle point of view, you know what to bring to the hospital – what if you put together a basket of things – a blanket, a bear, some comfort things, I could fed-ex you a tiny knitted cap that would fit, and dropped that off?
Holding my breath with you.
(hugs) I don’t blame you for this. When an acquaintance of mine lost her son a couple years after I lost Cora, I felt the same way. Afraid to relive the pain, not sure what SHE needed because I didn’t know her that well. But you also know that anything is better than nothing. Knowing that people want to help is good.
And if you decide not to test…well…that’s okay too.
I follow your blog regularly, but sadly I comment far less than I read. (Sorry about that)
But just wanted to extend a “blog” hug for what its worth for you and your co-worker. There is something about the rawness that is stirred up when the threads of our grief become unexpectedly intertwined that hits deep within. I am sure in time you will find clarity on how to best be there for her during this time of grief.
I had a similar experience with a former colleague of mine when she lost her child about 5 months after I lost mine. I sent her a card with my number to phone me in case she wanted to talk. She didn’t take advantage of it, but I didn’t blame her either. I wish I had seen her before I left that place just to let her know that my thoughts were still with her and her husband.
Anyhow, I’m certain that your co-worker knows that you are there for support and appreciates all the kindness you are extending to her and her husband/partner.
As for testing: if you don’t feel comfortable testing on Tuesday, then wait a day or two. It will be difficult whatever the outcome, but at least you will have thought about it as well. Wishing you all the best *hugs*
When my daughter died at 38 weeks, I remembered a co-worker who had lost her child at 26 weeks. After a few weeks, she contacted me, sent me her number. I never called, but she would send an email every few weeks, and eventually we talked. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate her contacting me, I just wasn’t ready. But when we did talk, it was really nice to know someone in real life who understood what i was going through, and knew me before. All that being said, I think your instincts are really good with her. Let her know you are thinking about her, and give her some opportunities to talk.
****Keeping my fingers crossed with you***
Thinking of your co-worker. Wishing the best outcome for you. Life is confusing sometimes.
Hi, I mainly lurk but I like the idea mentioned above of taking some things to the hospital that you know she might need/want – a nice blanket, a picture frame, maybe a necklace engraved with the baby’s name if you know it? Or, when she is out of the hospital and they don’t want to cook or do anything like that, you could maybe drop over a nice meal, something with comfort food, mac n cheese, lasagna, spaghetti, soup…along with various sides and some nice bottled waters and maybe some decaf teas?
Just a thought, it would be understandable if you didn’t feel up to doing anything…
Hope this post wasn’t too intrusive, back to lurking and wishing you well.
Nat- I find that when someone ‘shares’ in the sad griefs of things I have experienced – I let them know that there IS someone who understands. I would give her the URL of your blog and that way she can look if she wants – but I know it helps me when I know that someone understands where I’ve been. I did this recently for an online friend whose soon to be ex-husband kindapped her son and led the police on a chase – killed an officer and then was killed himself. But she was grateful for hearing my story so that she knew that others had dealt with crazy loss and she wasn’t the only one. Hugs you.
Oh, Nat. Long time lurker, but rarely a commenter…I just had to delurk to say: When I lost my baby I got a myriad of different responses from people, as I’m sure you did, too. The one that struck me the most was a simple card in the mail from my best friend’s mom. It had about 2 lines to it saying that she lost her first pregnancy before she got pregnant with my best friend and she understood and that she sent love and prayers my way. That was it. I could call if I wanted (I didn’t) but it was the simplicity of the message and the love I could feel that meant more to me than anything. I still have that card from 3.5 years ago. I don’t remember what anyone else said to me during that time, but I remember that card.
Been thinking of you, Nat. All this time.
Sometimes just knowing that someone is there if we need them is enough.