Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mother's Day = Misery


It’s a dreary day in Griefland. All week the storm has been building, knowing that Sunday was coming.  The onslaught of radio and television ads fueling the fury. Yesterday the winds were at a fever pitch and only by staying busy did I hold off the torrent.

Due to the change in seasons my emotions are already frayed.  Add to that, the vision I had for this Mother’s Day with my 7-month-old and the expectations of others in my current life and KA-BLAMO.

Today I hid, unwilling to confront all the whole families out there. I spent the day alternating between crying and distracting myself. It was very reminiscent of the early days after A was born. It’s a tried and true method to surviving the day.

After days of brooding and feeling blue, I find myself again frustrated that my pre-stillbirth tactics no longer help ease the pain and discomfort. It does not matter how many hours I sleep, it does not matter how much ice cream I eat or drinks I have, it does not matter how long I soak in the tub. I still feel awful. Awful and helpless to remediate it. You’d think I’ve learned this lesson by now. But apparently my psyche is too stubborn to accept this lack of control over its own emotions and its own life.

So I’ll retreat to my current, post-stillbirth regime of breakdowns and avoidance.

God how splendid today was supposed to be.

9 comments:

  1. As this day comes to a close, while I know it does not ease the pain, I wish you the peace of sleep. Lots of love to you, E and A!

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    1. Mama Bear I don't know how you manage to stay so serene. Whatever it is, I hope it rubs off on me a little. Thinking of you, Bear and Puma this Mothers Day.

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  2. I was busy out in the world all day and I saw oodles of littles in strollers. Sometimes I avert my eyes and force myself not to look directly at them. Other times I force myself to look directly at the baby. It's really messed up. And yes, I completely understand the frayed emotions. I hide, too. Nathaniel is supposed to be nine and a half months old.

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    1. I feel that way too. Sometimes I can genuinely smile at little ones in strollers and other days I cross the street to avoid them! Stupid, unpredictable grief.

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  3. We survived it! It sucked for me too, I was with family with all the Mothers and Mother In Law, I just wanted to go home and be miserable and miss my child. xo

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    1. I'm sorry you weren't hibernating at home, safe to cry or rage as the waves hit. It can be so draining to be with people, even with family I feel obligated to be social. Holding you, delightful Jack and his little brother in my heart.

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  4. Yesterday was a day I was very, very grateful to have my little E. It was a hard, hard day for me, missing her little sister so deeply, but I think it must be practically unbearable with no living child to hold. I hope my saying that doesn't hurt you more; I just want to say that I know how lucky I am and it made me hurt even more for you and other babyloss mothers on what should've been such a celebratory day - I thought so much of you yesterday and wished your little A was in your arms.

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  5. Sorry the day sucked for you too. Being on the otherside of that say sure is better. Ugh what a bitch these holidays can be. It's exhausting.

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  6. I had a vision of this Mother's day too. I spent the day looking at other mamas with their babies with longing and pain and envy. It isn't the way it should be. A should be here. Liam should be here. It should have been a splendid day yes.
    Sending love and peace to you xx

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