When I was little I was very philosophical (obviously :O) ). I used to wonder what it would be like it our whole lives were really just a dream of a giant. And if he woke up what would happen to us? Why it was a giant, I will never know. But I always wondered. (The giant never woke up, by the way, and I'm still here.)
Now, year later, I still wonder if I'm in a dream. It's not a giant's dream anymore. Instead it's just a dream I can't wake up from.
Some days I am just so okay. I can tell Colby to kiss Connor's "heart" or tell him that the picture on the wall is Mama, Dada and Connor, or that he an Connor used to share room in my belly. And it's just matter-of-fact.
Other days I am just so lost. Almost 3 years later, I still feel like this can't possibly be my life right now. I feel selfish saying that because I have three amazing, healthy, happy kids. But I still can't believe it. How do you process that your baby is dead? It becomes normal. A way of life. But it doesn't ever stop knocking you out when you least expect it.
Three years ago we were fighting against infertility and miscarriage, but we had seemingly won. And we really thought that was it. We were just so naive. And so wrong.
So lately I feel stuck in this dream. It feels like there has to have been some mistake. Or that I made up Connor and his death. That couldn't have really happened to us, could it?
And it all makes me feel so isolated. I don't want to bring up Connor to everyone I meet. They don't need to know that I really have 4 children. That my first baby lived and fought for his life. That I held him as the doctors told us there was nothing else to do. That I held him as he passed away. That my heart literally broke on July 21st and that there is nothing anyone can do about it. Instead I don't say anything. I keep pictures of Connor out in my room at school. I wear my MoD shirts. I keep my angel necklace on, but I don't say anything. But in not telling them, I feel like no one really knows me. Unfortunately Colby & Connor's birth and Connor's death has succeeded in changing the person that I am. It shook me to the core and there is no denying that I am a totally different person that I was before- for better or for worse.
I wonder all the time why things happened the way they did. I will never stop blaming myself for the boys' early birth. Yes, it was most likely inevitable due to IC, but my pregnancy with the girls proved that things could be done to prolong the pregnancy. I just regret that we didn't know that with the boys.
But I also wonder why Connor? What was so fundamentally different about him from Colby? How could Connor have a massive brain bleed, a pulmonary embolism, a PDA that refused to close, high blood pressure, and a life-ending infection when Colby was comparatively very healthy?
All I do know is that it's not getting any easier as time passes and instead there are days when it actually seems like things are getting worse. As I get further away it feels more like a nightmare that I can't wake up from. No matter how old I get, or how healthy the kids are, or how much we accomplish, I'll still be a mom to a baby that died.
3 comments:
I can't compare your situation to mine nor could I even pretend to know what you went through/are going through/and will continue to go through... but what I DO know is the feeling of guilt, the questioning of why, and the feeling of being a totally completely different person.
Honestly, I know that you are right when you say that those feelings will never go away... they won't. There will be good days and bad days. Connor is a part of your life and always will be, but you don't share every detail of your life with everyone you meet/know. I don't tell everyone about Ty's premature birth just like I don't tell them that I am Jewish. It is who I am, it is a part of me... but not everyone has to know everything. The people that matter... know YOU and all about you.
Lastly, have you sought out any groups of people who have dealt with a loss? As you know, I have this amazing group of women who all have preemies and we go through the ups and downs but we have each other. It's really nice to be so open and honest (like you are here) in a virtual world... but unlike blogging, you can conversations and responses (more than like on here). Just throwing it out there because I have found my group to be one of the most helpful things in this whole year.
Sending hugs to you, Stace!!! You are a GREAT mom to all 4!!!
I wish I had magic words to say... just wanted to know that I'm here for you!!!
I've personally found support groups to be wonderful... in addition to speaking with a counselor who has been in a similar situation to my emotional needs at the time to be of great support...I'd definitely talk with someone who can help you process your grief- not to forget Connor, but to process the living hell you have been through... infertility, miscarriage, death of a child... you AND your kids deserve it!!!
Hugs!!!
Oh Stace. I STILL get that feeling, did this really happen to us? To my little family? Really?! Didn't I just make it up?
And I am ok, most of the time. I talk about Georgina and it's fine but inside, like you, I am just so lost. And yes, I know what you mean. I feel selfish because I have two lovely children here to look after and I think I have an especially keen appreciation of how lucky I am to have them.
I always wonder why one of my little twin girls made it when her sister died. From the moment they were born, the doctors told me that Jessica was very healthy (given the circumstances) but Georgina was very ill. It puzzles me still.
I'm sorry that it sometimes feels like things are getting worse. I think it is just a lengthy process to work through. I have good days and sad days and days when I still catch myself thinking, 'did that REALLY all happen?'
Remembering your darling Connor xo
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