Blogging until this too, passes

I’ve hit a wall emotionally. It feels as though I’ve been driving along a straight road, and all of a sudden, BAM!, a wall appears and I smash my “car” into it.

Needless to say, the wreckage isn’t pretty.

I feel as though I have staggered out of an accident, blinking at my new reality. Picking up the pieces.

I posted on my F.B last night that I was pissed off abut the fact that because I am nearly 6 and 3 years post loss, that I feel forgotten, that my babies are forgotten, and the surprising waves of grief that creep up, don’t matter as much as other people’s because they’re fresh into their journey of loss, that their loss is “newer” than mine.

I feel a combination of overwhelming unfairness, as well as a huge cloud of guilt for wanting to throw myself on the floor and scream “MY BABIES COUNT TOO!”.

I don’t have other children, I don’t have a pregnancy to look forward to, I just have me. I consider myself to be a pretty resilient person, but today has just been one of those days where I feel like I am just floating. I feel forgotten.

It’s a strange mix of emotions to be working through.

Guilt

Selfishness

Sad

Longing

This too shall pass…

Nope

Not this time!

Part of me is sad, but the other part is relieved. My DF told me he wasn’t worried, and I wasn’t hugely worried. I guess the fear of another unplanned pregnancy has lessened now that I have completed my studies, we’re both ( temoprarily in my case for one term) employed in our careers full time, and about to begin building our home. We’re getting married, things are amazing. While there is never a “prefect” time for a baby, if we were to be fortunate enough to “fall” again, it wouldn’t be as scary or as financially crippling, or leaving us needing to give up the only spare space in our rental for a baby.

Our time, too will come. 2012 marks 3 years since my 2nd loss, and 6 years since my 1st. They say things happen in 3′s- a loss so far every 3 years, the next pregnancy will be number 3 for me, so who knows…What will 2012 bring for us?

The ability to see…

If we all posessed the ablilty to see into our futures, I am sure most of us would never have dreamed of a family. Most of us would have seen the heartbreak of pregnancy loss, and the impact of life after loss and walked away with our hands up.

No way, no how. No way would we put ourselves through this if we could see into the future, the damage that it causes.

But we can’t.

We go through it, pregnancy after pregnancy, attempt after attempt, failure after failure.

All in the hopes that because we CAN’T see into our futures, that there may indeed be a baby at the end of it.

One mamma has given up her quest for motherhood, and as painful as it is to have given up, she is looking at not the end of a journey, but the beginning of the rest of her life.

Another dear friend of mine (Mo) has just said goodbye to her beautiful baby boy at just shy of 24 weeks, and is in the place I call “limbo”. Waiting for the beginning of her journey.

A woman I have met through my volunteer work, following the loss of her son, as well as 3 miscarriages and the loss of her current pregnancy’c twin early on, is 38 weeks and counting. And terrified. And overjoyed. She’s about to begin a journey, and I wish her all the best for it.

If any of these women could change what they have been through just by being able to forsee the future?

I don’t think so. I think that many of them would say “no”.

To experience this loss, it takes away all of the superficial crap that we ususally negotiate our way through. I meet regularly with a girl I have only met in person a handful of times. It is never awkward. We just start chatting away.

One of my best friends is a beautiul lady who I have never met IRL. And here I am, planning a trip to see her. Not planning now, its actually happening. Tickets are paid for!

Experiencing loss cuts us to the core. It destroys us, changes us, inspires us.

For us, it is not about who has the flashest car, or the nicest house, or if you come from a different natuonality. Even, at the end of the day, it isn’t about the fact that we do or don’t have children.We are all mothers. Its the experiences that we all have in common are what bring us together.

I think if I knew the heartache that LALwould bring, I’d never have gone for it. At the same time, if I could have seen the beautiful, simple, amazing friendships that had been spun from my losses, I’d do it a million times over.

This post is for all of you- no matter where you are in your LAL journey.

 

Babies, October, Peace and Overseas

I’m thrilled to announce that I have now planned, booked and paid for (mostly) my very first overseas holiday! I’ve never even left the country, so why not go BIG time and hit up America. I am off to visit two very special ladies.

I’ve never met either of these people in “real life”, however the sisterhood formed online is one that is stronger than any I have ever shared with any other person.

I am flying to the “States” in October, just in time for October 15th. I am playing with the idea of hosting a service with Kay (http://mommyofoctoberangels.blogspot.com), just something simple, honest and lovely. If it is just us, then how amazing will it be for us to share such a significant day with one of the few people who “get” the world of “young” loss. But if it is with a small crowd, I hope to bring a sense of peace surrounding the day. A chance for them to know they’re not alone. And their babies are remembered and loved.

More on that to come.

I am also spending 4 wonderful days with a dear friend, who lost her daughter a month after I lost Lily. We were both pregnant at the same time, believed both our babes were girls, both lost our babes to the same fate. Both of us struggled, fought with ourselves, and reched out. She was the hand who pulled me from the edge, and I was hers. Together, via email, we recovered. Slowly. I took the chance to read through our emails, a correspondence that lasted 2 years before we got busy and found each other on FB. <3 That 2 years worth of emails made me realise that it isn’t weird to pay a lot of money to visit people I have never met. Its our experiences that have brought us together.

I get to meet these beautiful laides this year. In 8 months time. IS it October yet?

Thanks to our babies.

Remembering

Lily Natalie

“Little Speck”

James Michael

Kylie Rose

Daniel Bishop

Lilla Bjorn

Sara

The Finishing Line

A while back, I blogged that it was “my first day of my last year of study”.

Well

Today is the last day of my first bachelor’s degree.

After today’s assessment, I am a qualified teacher.

It is the end of this journey for me. I look back over the last 5 years ( 4 of which were taken up by my studies), and cannot believe I am here. Finally. After years of struggles, tears, joy, way to much wine, long nights, early mornings, beautiful friends, I am here.

Lily gave me the push in the direction of following my dream of becoming a teacher, and Little Speck, even more so.

I had so mnay moments where I was convinced I COULD NOT GO ON, I couldn’t do it, I wasn’t good enough. I think I’ll always continue to do this, but for now, I’ll do it with a qualifiection in my hand!

I am now a teacher, ready to change the future, to change lives, even if it is only on person at a time.

I’ve always said that if I can make the difference that one of my high school teacher’s made to my life ( she was amazing when I revealed that I had suffered a miscarriage, she was my support person for a long time after that.), to just one student, if I can help them through the roughest point of their life by just listening, I will know I have done my job.

To NB- Thankyou, from the very bottom of my heart.

I am a teacher now.

I did it.

Vivid Preggo Dreams…But Not Preggo….

Urrrgh. I had a nast spell of 4 nights of very little sleep.

This has been followd up with almost a week of amazing, 10 hours a night sleep. And being up at a decent hour.

The only issue with amazing sleep?

The CRAZY ASS, VIVID, “Dream like I am pregnant, but not pregnant” dreams.

This morning, it was my grandmother being the head of a secret service organisation, rescuing me from Korea or something, and before that, I had a dream that my friend’s dad- who Idon’t like- came to live with us, bragging about how much he earns. Seriously! WTF!

The night before, however, I had the most disturbing, horrific dream. I have been known for, in the past, to have dreams that turn out to be an accurate predictor of future events. I choose not to “tap” into this, however people do believe that we all have an “ability” to see into the future, or to speak to the deceased…

I dreamed that a friend of mine ,who I have fallen out of contact with (currently preggo with number 4), was stabbed to death, as well as her 5 children, and thier grandmother. Left behind her partner. The whole thing stemmed from a neighborhood dispute I think.

Seriously, brain??? It was a horrible,vivid dream, one that I have not been able to get out of my head.

Who dreams like this??

Oh.

Me.

Hmmm….

The “R” word and the “S” word

I wish I was talking about roses and sapphires here, I really do.

Anyone who knows me, reads my blog, or recieves emails from me, knows I talk. A lot.

And more often than not, I swear, I ramble, and I say things I know I shouldn’t.

I call people stupid, I call myself lazy, retarded and a bit of a spaz.

Yes, people, THOSE “R” and “S” words.

Admittedly, I don’t think twice about it, its something that has become a part of everyday conversation, just another word.

It’s something I do not even realise I do.

So today, I managed to completely insult a group of women very dear to my heart, but unintentionally/not thinking about the connotatios of the word “spaz”. I forget, that for such a long time, it was used as a word to mock people with intellectual or physical disabilities. And I use those words as simply another part of my everyday vocabulary.

And its something, that I now, feel incredibly silly for doing.

These women are right. What “good” does it do by using those words?

Do I have a disabled child? NO.

Do I know what it is like to face the prospect of raising one? NO

Is it correct to even use the words? NO.

What entitles me to use them?

Nothing.

So to these ladies, I aplogise from the bottom of my heart. I feel silly, naieve, juvenile for using them, and for having to have it POINTED out to me that “GUESS WHAT- that offends people!”.

I am now making a conscious effort to not to do it.

Which, if I was a good person, I wouldn’t have to do in the first place.

I guess that what I am trying to say is that I need to change, and society needs to change. Using these words only upsets people who truly know the meaning behind the words.

Change begins with the individual.

Change begins with me. I can blame my age, or the fact it has become so common to use the words that they have lost meaning to many, or that it is just a part of society.

I could.

But it’s not.

It’s not good enough to make excuses.

I have to stop. And THINK. And make a change.

To these ladies ( you know who you are), you have such a special place in my heart, and I am absolutley mortified that I have upset you. I apologise from the bottom of my heart.

 

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I am aware of the fact that I am not a mother, I am certainly not a mother to a child that may be physically or mentally less-abled.

I am aware, though, that 50-60% of miscarriages occur because of chromosomal abnormalities-because there was something significantly wrong with the developing baby.

My reasons for my miscarriages? I chose not to know, not to have any further testing.

But there’s a pretty high chance that it was chromosomal, and therfore a pretty high chance that I could have parented a disabled child.

It was my body that killed my babies, and given the fact that it “could have been me”, I do need to think about what I am saying.

Feeling very ashamed of myself tonight.

 

Feeling well; really well

I was warned when I began taking anti-depressants again, that it could take a while to feel the effects of it.

I expected the “lag” to be a few weeks.

Little did I know that it would take 7 months for it to settle in and work completely. But, over the last few weeks, I have finally begun to find and feel glimpses of the “old” me. I can genuinley say I am feeling good about 85% of the time, and singing along to the radio in my car like nobody’s business.

I like feeling like this, even if it is with the assistance of Zoloft. I am ok with that. They’re a part of my life that I am not ashamed of. I’ve begun to let go of the control-freakiness, I am no longer ripping DF’s head off over him moving a TV remote.

I have begun to smile again. A real smile, a genuine one.

Finally.

So, last Thursday, I cracked.

Big time.

Months of stress, exhaustion and frustration finally came out and I crashed mentally.

I think I have finally reached what people call ‘burn out’.

I. Am. Just. Exhausted.

I went home to my parents for a 4 day rest. Needless to say, I needed it.

I am studying full time, working part time, at uni 4 out of 7 days usually, money is very worrying right now, I run a house, do the grocery shopping, do the majority of the cooking and cleaning in a home of 4 people, I am always, ALWAYS there for my friends and family when they need me.

My mother says that I simply undervalue what I do. I do a lot- too much for me to cope with lately. I have always believed that I am ‘just’ a student, therefore am unofficially expected to do a little more than my house mates. But in all honesty, they’re taking it for granted. Even DF.

So an increase in my happy pills Zoloft and a brief break have allowed me to slowly get my head back together. I’m on 100mg a day now, and playing it by ear. Also we see a return to the therapist. Tell you- batshit crazy here.

I am no where near ok, but I am coping. My housemate even cleaned the whole house the other day.

I haven’t been able to pick up a text book or do any form of study since the week before last. I have grand plans to sit down and do some work tomorrow. Honest. I think my poor brain just needs a break.

I’m exhausted, shattered, but working through it.

And on this note;

“This morning’s dawn light painted by the sky for you…Today the breeze dances in honour of you…Tonight it will be the moon and the stars sending out shining rays…” (Unknown Author)

A post inspired by Mo

I was reading through my “tag surfer” posts, where people who have the same tags in their posts as me, they come up and I stalk read them.

Mo (mommyodyssey.wordpress.com) blogged about “then” and “now” and how her 22 year old self was the same as her 31 year old self, but so vastly different.

I wanted to cry, as I read her beautiful post.

It said to me “I am ok, and I am ok with that.”

It made me reflect on my life, all of 22 years myself.

I too, as Mo has, suffered (for the majority of the time) from un-diagnosed depression. Since I was about 14, I have struggled with dark thoughts, down moods and bouts of crying. That’s the clean version.

But then, I look at the events in my life, and I cannot believe it.

Despite severe depression, self harming, starving myself, falling pregnant, miscarrying, working myself to the bone, meeting DF, moving away from home to uni, doing reasonably well and never accepting it, falling pregnant, miscarrying, back to uni, joining a P&IL volunteer group and making a genuine difference, moving in with DF, struggling with an even more severe bout of depression, I look back and smile.

Despite ALL of that- that is the short version- I have come to the realisation that I have gone through ALL of that, I have come out on top. I am in a relationship- an honest, respectful, amazing relationship- with a man whom I love with all of my heart, I am completely supporting meyself and living with DF, I am about to embark on my dream career, a career I knew I wante to persue since I was 13, as a teacher. I am a good teacher. I really am.

I am a teacher, a sister, a daughter, a finace, a mother, a friend, a support to the P&IL community.

I am ok, and I am ok with that.

I am me, and I have come out on top, despite all the crap the universe has thrown at me.

Thankyou Mo for reminding me of this.