Breakfast Bomb

I usually take it for granted that our little community of family and friends and coworkers were all aware and sensitive when Haven died. Today I got a taste of someone who didn't know and who wasn't sensitive.

We were at the window at a Tim Horton's drive through to get some breakfast and tea when Danny recognized one of the ladies working inside (an old coworker). I smiled at her. 

"Oh heyyyy," she said, popping her head around the woman serving us, "listen, did you have your baby?" Silence reigned for a few seconds until Danny said, "yeah, we did, but unfortunately she, uh, she didn't make it." The lady dramatically covered her mouth, "oh, I'm sooo sorry!" She stepped away from the window and I thought that was that.

Nope.

She popped back into the window: "were you full-term?"

Danny: yeah.

Lady: "oh my, you don't think about that happening. What happened?"

Danny briefly explained.

"Oh, that's terrible. It must have been so hard." She popped away again, and the other lady in the window (a total stranger!) asked, "was it a boy or girl?" 

Danny answered, but I was just staring off into space at this point, barely believing this was happening.

The old coworker popped back into the window and asked in a conspiratorial tone, "I hope it doesn't sound nosy, but are you guys going to try again?"

I just sat there in shock while Danny said, "uh, we're hoping to, yeah." 

"Oh, that's good." Other random lady chimes in, "hopefully it'll work out this time."

I completely broke down by the time he got me to work. I understand not knowing, but a response to this situation needs to end at "I'm so sorry" and nothing else. I am still in shock that someone who barely knows my husband AND a complete stranger could go on such a nosy tear of questions immediately after finding out we lost our child.

Now I need to somehow let this go and focus on work... I am in disbelief. What is wrong with people?

Life, Again

Life is happening. I don't know when it started creeping in or when things started to feel normal again, but here I am. I truly couldn't see my way through to this even two months ago. A part of me didn't believe the other loss moms who told me that I would eventually feel like this again. Somehow, I am finding my way down this murky path and I am hoping again. I am doing well at work, I am having fun with friends and with Danny, and life is mostly good. Of course Haven is on my mind constantly, and I still have dark days and moments where I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest, but I am finding that I am stronger, and that I am bouncing back in a way that I just couldn't before now.

As I have noticed no real reaction to stage 1 of weaning from my antidepressants (other than an increase in anxiety), we decided to start trying again this month. I can't even explain to you how different it is this time around. I hope this does not sound ungrateful and that it does not hurt anyone for me to say this, but I am profoundly grateful that I didn't become pregnant a few months ago when we were trying; I was nowhere near ready, and I think the fear that my anxiety and depression and insomnia would be detrimental to the baby would have probably made all three of those things so much worse. This time around, I feel relaxed and excited. Yeah, I also have MANY fears, but I think those will now forever be a part of the process for us. So wish us luck!

This time around, there are no OPK's, no constant web searches, and no hourly symptom-spotting. And there will be no early testing either. I was entirely consumed the few months that we tried, and I can't imagine that helped things. This time around, I am focusing on being healthy and rested and happy. When it happens, it happens (though I selfishly would love a May or June baby!)

The Upswing

I have started a new blog where I am focusing on gratefulness as a means to finding joy again. I still intend to keep posting here (I still need a place to process my grief), but this new blog is a step toward life.

If you would like to follow, you can view and subscribe here (CLICK).

I hope you all find moments of joy and reasons to smile today. One day at a time, that is the only way through this.

If you also blog, I would like to come and check out your posts. Feel free to leave a comment below with your link!

6 Months and Counting: An Update.

I can't even believe that it has been six months since The Worst Day. Well, technically, today was the middle of the three worst days. I was in the middle of my long induction, hopped up on morphine, and my thoughts and emotions were scattered.

I thought I was okay yesterday, which was six months since the day we first heard the terrible news. I was at work doing my thing when it just hit me. Thankfully, my boss is very supportive and didn't question it when I asked if I could have the next day off. She sent me home right then, in fact. I am so grateful.

Six months.

My depression has ebbed, though the past two weeks have been hard. I supervise summer camps as a part of my job, and this particular camp was full of little girls. A friend and a coworker had babies on the same day. Six months happened yesterday.

I have been sleeping most nights, which is a true blessing. The four months of not sleeping is what really sent me spiraling, I believe. Being back to work has lifted my mood and reminded me that there is still life outside the walls of my home. That I am good at things, and useful, and that someday I will have joy again.

I held a newborn baby yesterday for the first time since I held Haven. It was so hard, and my heart was heavy all evening afterward, but I think it was a good thing. He was just a beautiful little guy, sleeping so deeply as Danny and I passed him back and forth. His mom had a placental abruption and had to have an emergency induction. Though the situation was so different than what we experienced, I could tell that it had shaken them, made them think of us, made them so grateful for a good outcome when it could have been so different.

On that note, I am weaning from my antidepressants and hope to start trying again this month or next. I am so grateful now that I did not get pregnant when we were trying a few months ago. I was not anywhere near ready, and I was half out of my mind with grief and mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion. Now I feel like I can start this again with a fresh head, with a new strength.

And I am strong. It has taken me all of this time to realize that people were right when they said that I was strong as I put one foot in front of the other in the days after Haven was born. I was strong when we buried her. When I sunk to the bottom of the pit. When I crawled back out. When I faced the world again. When I learned how to smile again.

Joy comes from weird places, I find. Instagram, for instance. I didn't know what it was for months, until my boss explained (I might be the oldest 29-year-old ever). And now I am hooked. It actually brings me a lot of joy to take pictures and publish them. Cooking has been another joy. I love cooking, but when I was depressed I just couldn't. Crafts bring me joy. I have been making tutus and painting picture frames with friends, and it is lovely. Exercising. Well, I am working on that one, ha ha! I have also started another blog. Where this one has been a depository for my pain, the new blog will be a place where I track my redemption, my new beginning. I will post the link when it is ready to share, if you are interested in following. I will continue to need this space to put the pain, but I am now in a place where I need to sort out other feelings too.

Let's be clear: I have not arrived. I am not "all better." I never will be. I still cried on my way home yesterday thinking about my daughter's tiny body resting in my arms. No, I am not okay yet. But I will be. This is not where my story ends. It's just where it begins.