Monday, May 21, 2018

The haunting

Maybe it's too much time to my thoughts in isolation during those quiet dark hours when Samantha wakes up.  Maybe it's too much time on my phone, on twitter and fb, and absorbing so much daily horror in the harsh light of electronics. Maybe it's late onset PPD?

I've felt haunted these past few weeks. The babies who never made it, particularly Celine, have invaded my consciousness.  Would she have looked like Samantha?  Would any of them have looked like my side of the family?  Would they have started rolling at only three months and be on their way to crawling early, as she is?  Would they have had her wide-smile (which actually *may* be my epigenetic contribution, because fuck if her smile doesn't actually resemble mine)?

A few days ago I broke down in the kitchen, a weeping disaster at 5am, as Viking was getting ready to go to work.  "Don't you ever think of them? Don't you ever wonder?" I wailed.  He was silent.  No, he said quietly.

My mom, when I tried explaining why I sounded so down, inelegantly advised me to try to "forget" about them.  "Would I ever tell you to forget about your father?" I responded.  That put then end to that.

Boy, we all say "grief isn't linear" in the grief community, it's a mantra in our tribe.  But FUCK, it really isn't.

5 comments:

  1. Long time lurker here. I don't mean to creep you out, but I stumbled upon your blog years ago when I was in the darkest days of my own quest for just one more and I've been following your story ever since. My "one more" arrived in early 2016, but every day I am reminded of the words that become my FB profile picture every October 15: "I will always wonder who you would have been." They will always be a part of us; their loss will always be a part of us; we will always wonder.

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    1. I am giving you the hugest hug, thank you for sharing, and so many congratulations on your one more.

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  2. As a 23.5 wk pregnant lady, my son never made it this far and has been on my mind lately but for a different reason. It's the similarly and differences between the two. My son was not this wiggledy. This girl seems to aim at my bladder when I pee. She seems to have more personality than my fetal Fizzgig who still enjoys screaming for the hell of it but fetally was kinda boring. Woogie hated cold so icee consumption looked like akiena in my belly as he tried to escape my stomach zone.

    I am haunted by his absence. We should be boy, girl, boy girl...but it's just boy, girl, girl. I was honestly releived that it was not my replacement boy but Woogie is way easier than Fizzgig :) I am trying to come to grips that in sept I get my rainbow and not some heartache between now and then. But it's a deja Vu. Emotional distance but trying to get excited. We have been robbed of the innocence of all this. It's also a closing of a chapter. You are no longer in need of an on...you just need annual gyn stuff. That hit me hard when I was at the give up phase. I would order a small delivery truck of kiddos and I adore my jackpots but still it felt like a slap to the face. Denied a desire. A simple desire that was just out of reach. I cannot imagine your journey and the bittersweet-ness of achieving a goal but still to have reached a finish line.

    My only relatable story: the grand canyon. We went down the north side and came up the south side. 7 miles down. 7 miles across. 7 miles up. We had reservations for fancy dinner. We had cancelled it but was told if we arrived by 9 we were welcome (it was my bunny's birthday). So we see an arch: visible from the top so it's like woot!!! Then like a mile later it was like what happened? Then we see another arch: oh fuck there's two!?!? It was all about one foot in front of the other. We checked into our hotel and ran to fancy restaurant. We ate. It was good but not rewarding. It took another day plus on top to be like: we did it. How can something so amazing, so bucket list worthy not be a celebration? It's because we have been one foot in front of the other so long that stopping is anticlimactic even when there was a climax. You have your just one more. But now looking back on your broken journey it still looks sad. There will probably be no time that the journey will look happy. But your finish line was a climax! She will be filled with a lifetime of gentle reminders of that journey. She was the reward and she was worth it...but it's bittersweet. I babbled...but I feel ya! Hugs sweet mama!

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    1. your babbling is a comfort. I can't believe how close september is.

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  3. 26.1 wks. I have never thought about viability until this pregnancy so I hope she keeps cooking! She enjoys kicking my bladder as I pee so she has an anatomical sense of humor! I am glad life finds you well :)

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