More self -torture

Why do I keep doing this to myself? I keep getting bored and looking at FB and I keep getting smacked upside the head with baby crap. "We're expecting boy#4", "I'm done work for the next 13 months", "Why won't this baby come out already?", "Look how cute my baby is". I don't need to check FB, it emails me if there's a message, why can't I stop? Better yet, why can't I be the one obnoxiously posting pictures of my almost 3 month old?

Another Answer to one of Kristin's Big Questions

I have been thinking about this stuff for the last couple weeks, but Kristin's post spurred me on to get it out of my head. I'm not sure if this properly expresses how I feel, but it's the best I can do right now.

I don't think I have prayed since Reid was declared dead. I can remember asking God to save my baby as I lay on the operating table with my guts on my chest while doctors tried to get Reid to breathe, but we all know how that turned out. I know there was a lot of times right after Reid died when I was asking why, but it wasn't a real "prayer".

I was raised in a Christian home. We went to church almost every Sunday and my parents still do (although one goes to a protestant church and the other goes to mass). Before Reid I prayed regularly. I didn't attend church that often, partly because I am lazy and partly because I knew my husband wasn't really into organized religion (anything he has done related to church has been for me), but we made sure to attend during major Christian holidays. (I would have been in church on Easter Sunday if I hadn't gone into labor on Good Friday) My living child D was baptized, but we definitely hadn't made an effort to teach her about God yet. I occasionally felt guilty for not going to church more often and not taking D to church, but I think it had more to do with disappointing my mom than God.

Now I don't know what to feel about God. It's not that I don't believe he exists. Heck, we told D that her baby brother is with the angels, but who knows how much she understands. I haven't been anywhere near a church and don't intend to be anytime soon. (The guilt is not there anymore.) I know I am angry, but it's more than that. Every time I hear something like "God doesn't give us anything we can't handle" or "This happened to strengthen/test your faith" and all the other assorted platitudes, it just makes me angry. It's like God was trying to teach me some kind of lesson by taking my son away and I HATE the idea of someone trying to make me learn something or do something. The whole concept just makes me want to rebel and do the exact opposite thing. Maybe things will change, but that's how I feel right now.

Way too hard

On Saturday afternoon, I tried to be a normal person and went out to run errands without an almost 3 year old in tow, something that I should look forward to. I thought it would be no different than going out with D, but it was very different. Without D to distract me, the effort of pretending to be normal human being was overwhelming. 1 1/2 hours into my errands, I had to have a cry in the car before I went into the grocery store and 1/2 an hour after that I full out bawled as soon as I pulled back into the driveway at home. It's not like I saw anything that really upset me, it was just too hard to keep it together. I feel so awful for all the DBM's whose first child has died and have to go out in the world without the "shield" of a living child.

Fast-forward a couple hours and I was feeling good enough to go along with DH and D for ice cream (no downside to eating a huge ice cream cone to make me feel better, right?). And of course, there is a family with a little girl and a baby waiting for ice cream when we arrive. I have no idea if that baby was a boy or girl. I couldn't even get within 50 feet of them because the baby was sitting in the exact same car seat that is sitting in my basement. The same car seat that we should have brought Reid home in.

So much for a nice soothing ice ream cone.

In the mail

Today the mailman left this in our mail box...


It arrived from my friend R. (it was her son's birth that freaked me out back in May) Despite the fact that she is not a DBM (thankfully), she understands. (She is okay with the fact that I wish her son had been a girl)

I love that someone bought a gift for Reid. There have been things for me and things for D, but this is the only gift for Reid we have received. It's a real baby rattle and somehow that makes me feel like someone sees him as a real baby even though he never needed any baby toys. The red stone is red jasper, one of the birthstones for Aries. It seems extra right as Reid means red haired and he had red eyelashes. I think there may be some purchases of red jasper jewelery in the future.

Another Bad Day

I was miserable today. It was the first time since Reid died that I wasn't strong enough to keep up with D and ended up letting her watch way too much TV. I knew it was going to be a bad day when the desire to be a couch zombie outweighed the bad parent guilt. Thank goodness for E, another IRL friend who is actually a DBM x 3. Her phone call wasn't enough to get my out of my pj's and out of the house but it did cheer me up enough to stop me from hiding in my room and sobbing while D was watching Sesame Street. (and it was the episode with Feist singing "1,2,3,4" which gave me a couple minutes of pleasant distraction)

While I was in SK, one of my oldest friends called and left a message. DH told me about it but I wasn't up for calling her back while on my trip. She has since sent me an email that I haven't been able to reply to. She lives about 3 hours away and is pregnant (of course) with a boy (just like everyone else I know) and due at the end of July. She is done work in a week and wants to know if she can come visit me. I just don't know what to tell her. She was supportive right after Reid died but I hadn't heard anything from her since the end of April so I was feeling pretty hurt. I do want to see her, but I don't know if I can stand to see her hugely pregnant and happy (her blog is full of "when the baby comes" and all the other things that we DBM's know aren't guaranteed just because you get to be 34 weeks pregnant). I can't decide which will be harder for me, seeing her pregnant or waiting to see her once she has the baby. I have yet to go see anyone who has had a baby since Reid died and I have really avoided baby boys of any age. Any advice for me from those who may have already dealt with friends who are "still" pregnant?

Home not so sweet home

I am back home after 2 weeks on the road. I am so glad to not be traveling anymore but mostly I feel like crap. It's not like I could pretend that Reid never existed and therefore never died while we were away, but there were definitely fewer reminders right in front of my face. Fewer babies and bellies around. I didn't have to walk past the "baby room" and all his things sitting in there a hundred times a day. I didn't have to be surrounded by memories of all the things I did while I was pregnant and all the things I have done to try to survive since I wasn't.

Maybe part of it is that everywhere I look there are chores that need to be done, (DH is wonderful but he definitely let more than a few things slide while D and I were away) but that shouldn't be enough to make me want to cry non-stop. It's like the weight on my chest that had eased off during the trip has all been dropped right back into place.

Need my fix

My internet fix that is. We are at my MIL's and the only computer is in the middle of the living room so not a good place for writing or reading dead baby blogs. (everyone except D is out running errands so I have about 10 minutes to get caught up). I think I am just as addicted to blogs and Glow In The Woods (which I think of as Dead Baby Facebook) as I ever was to Facebook. Of course now I can claim that these sites have theraputic value so I don't feel bad about this addiction at all. Can't wait to get home to my laptop.

Itchy

It's my last day at my parents farm. It finally stopped raining but the mosquitoes are SO bad that we can barely go outside. I have many, MANY bites from just trying to get a few minutes in the sun. I really hope that it isn't this bad at my MIL's so I don't have to choose between being eaten alive and being cooped up all day.

Except for a couple trips to the grocery store in the city and the previously mentioned incident with my dad, I have been able to hide out from babies, pregnant women and most of the other things that make me cry. I never came to the farm while I was pregnant with Reid so I don't have to block out memories of hanging out here and planning to come back with him. (Of course the plans were still made in my head, but they were made in Alberta). I really wish that he was here with us and there were lots of my parents friends dropping by to meet him instead of me hiding out from all but the closest family friends. It's weird but no one other than my parents has mentioned Reid or what happened. Not even my grandmother or my mom's friend who both had stillborn children. I am not ready to bring up the subject but I thought someone might bring it up, especially my grandmother.

This trip has also been bittersweet has it may be our last trip to the farm ever. My parents are ready to retire and the farm is up for sale. I can't imagine my parents living anywhere else. (They built the house the summer before I was born and have lived here ever since.) I just hope for their sakes that it sells soon so things don't drag on forever. I live 9 hours away and can't visit that often so it really won't change things that much for me. I will just have to get used to the idea that the house I grew up in isn't my parents' house anymore and that D will likely be the only one of my children to even visit my childhood home.

I can still cry

Well Sadkitty was right, all it takes is one wrong thing and you are a basket case all over again. Last night I made a slightly bitter comment and got " be grateful for what you have" from my dad. I fled the room in tears and only stopped crying long enough to get D bathed and into bed. Then I spent the rest of evening crying myself to sleep. He tried to apologize, but he doesn't understand that D is the only reason that I haven't said to hell with the world and spent the last 10 weeks curled up in bed. Holy shit, it's been 10 weeks. Yeah, now I can say "This has been the worst 10 weeks of my life."

Fridge Magnet

My mom has this magnet on her fridge. I used to think it was cute, now not so much. Bonkers is too cutesy for the way your baby dying messes up your life. Why isn't there a word that describes how I am sad and angry and bitter and confused and lonely and scared and numb and "blah" and a million other bad things all at the same time?

D and I survived the drive to my parents farm. (I hate Dora but she got us through 10 hours on the road with minimal complaining) I had pictured us spending lots of time outside, helping my mom in her garden and taking D for tractor rides with my dad. However it has been raining nearly non-stop for the last 3 weeks and shows no sign of letting up. And when it's not raining , huge swarms of mosquito's are circling the yard looking for anything warm blooded. So much for the idyllic week in the country. This has left me with far too much time to miss DH and obsess about everything. I haven't cried for the last few days and that seems wrong. Things happen that make me feel sad, but they don't make me cry right now. Does that mean I didn't love Reid enough or am I "too good" at dealing with his death or am I in denial/shock and in a couple weeks I'll be a basket case again? How crappy is your life when you have to wonder what's wrong with you when you don't spend the majority of your day being utterly miserable?

Running Away

I am fleeing the province for 2 weeks. D and I are heading out Monday morning and making the +800 km trip to my parents' farm. A whole day driving, alone with an almost 3 year old might make a normal person crazy, but since I may already be there, I am going to risk it. After 9 days, DH is flying to SK and then we will spend a few days with his family. Don't know what in the world we will do at his mom's place but it's only 2 or 3 days max. (DH parent's split up just after D was born so it makes for extra fun times when visiting the in-laws).

I can't wait to take D to the farm, but of course I keep thinking that I should be taking Reid for his first trip to the farm. This trip will also be my first chance to see my grandmother in almost a year and a half. Her first son (the baby before my mom) was stillborn more than 60 years ago, so I know she will have things to share with me that we have never talked about before. I haven't talked to her since Reid died since she is losing her hearing and I haven't felt like shouting my feelings into the phone while crying so I hope she isn't too upset at me either. ( is it weird that this image makes me giggle? more dead baby black humor I guess.)

June 3rd

Reid should be 2 months old today. The worst thing I should have to deal with is whether or not to start his immunizations on the recommended schedule. Now everything is crappy and shitty and completely fucked up.

Not enough

I remember when just the sight of D's laughing face was enough to fill my heart with happiness. And before she arrived, cuddling with DH on the couch was enough to make everything right in my world. Now nothing is enough to do that. Reid's death has made everything "not enough".