Stuck in the Muck

When you first lose a child, you are immediately in shock, you feel numb, and your emotions are all heightened. I cried more easily then, and nothing felt real. The week after is kind of a blur. Only 28 hours after I gave birth to Haven, I was sitting in the funeral director's office making funeral plans. Or rather, my husband was making plans while I sat there and cried quietly.

Almost a month and a half out, I am starting to understand that grief doesn't move in a straight line. It's not worse at the beginning, then better and better from there on out. What is different about losing a child, especially an infant, is that there isn't any situation that isn't a trigger. Your baby would have been with you everywhere you went, so it doesn't matter where you go, what you do, or who you see, they simply aren't there with you. Instead, there is a black hole that travels beside you and your arms ache, longing to be filled with your child who is never, ever going to be there again.

I have been trying to get out among friends in the "real world" every few days, but that has become harder. The first few weeks that my husband was back to work, I would go to friends' houses, but they all have kids, save a few. So I would get through my visit, get home, walk through the door, and burst into tears. Tears that continued to pour sometimes for hours on end. So I've kept to myself a little more since a few of those experiences.

But it doesn't seem to matter that I avoid painful situations; they just seem to find me. Here are some examples from just this past week alone:

Example 1: I am a voting member at my church, and there was a pastoral/board vote last Wednesday, so I knew every person counted (you have to have 2/3 of members present). I decided to go, even though it would be my first time back. As soon as I walked through the door, well-meaning people were expressing condolences and wrapping their arms around me. I was in tears within two minutes. Though I had many friends there, no one thought to save me a seat. Thankfully, I found a spot with friends, who sort of barricaded me in one of the rows of seats and I was left mostly alone for the rest of the meeting. I felt so alone in that room, even though I was surrounded by people who love me and my husband.

Example 2: Some of our closest friends invited us over on Friday, along with some of our extended group of friends. I knew in advance that two friends would be there with their baby, who was born just weeks before Haven under scary circumstances (they got a warning, we didn't). They are a trigger for me, but I'd thought I would give it a try (after all, I can't hide from them forever). Big mistake. I walked in the door and could see the mom holding the baby in the living room (they didn't see me). I ducked into the kitchen and one of the hosts asked quietly, "how are you feeling with them here?" I looked up at her with big eyes and said, "panicked." And promptly burst into tears. She hustled me up the stairs to her room to give me a moment. I cried and sobbed. And his cries kept wafting up the stairs...I can't explain it, but they hurt me physically. She brought me some wine and some tissue (good friend!) and cried with me. My husband showed up later and was directed up the stairs to me. I begged him to take me home. I knew he was feeling it too. When will it not be "too early" anymore? I really don't know.

Example 3: I went to a party the night after at a friend's house. It was going alright, though it was hard with such a full house (I haven't exactly been around any crowds since I've been off). I ended up in her living room with a few girls, sipping wine and feeling sleepy. They all eventually slipped out, and the last one said suddenly, "can I give you a hug?" I said, "sure." She said, "I heard what happened. I'm so sorry! My friend is going through the same thing." I said, "I'm sorry to hear that." She didn't miss a beat and said, "I guess it's important to remember that it's a pretty normal thing to have happen." I was stunned and just mumbled, "yeah, I guess so." She left, and I closed my eyes to rest, just fuming inside. SERIOUSLY??? I am still angry thinking about it. Normal?! Sure, death is normal in that we all die, but it's not normal for a healthy infant to die with no warning. Not normal at all! What in the world was she thinking? I don't need her opinion and did not ask for it. This is probably just the beginning of The Shit People Say for me. I think I have been sheltered mostly, but I've heard too many other parents' stories to believe it'll stay this way.

Example 4: Facebook. It's covered in new birth announcements, baby pictures, pregnancy announcements, you name it. My sister in law is pregnant and due soon, and she just posted her bump photos. They make me so angry and so jealous. I hate that I feel this way. Pregnant women make me feel so inadequate and so empty. I also feel fear around them, because I know what can happen.

These are just a few of the worst things, but there are always countless moments when I feel the black hole gaping around me. At the grocery store, knowing one of us should be carrying her. When I shower and notice that my milk is totally gone and my bleeding has stopped. When I open the fridge, and my Strongbow reminds me that I'm not pregnant anymore, so I can drink alcohol. It's EVERYWHERE, and I feel like I am stuck in the muck of my grief.

I just miss her so much.