Saturday, November 18, 2006

Bloggity Blog

I'm not feeling very bloggity today.

Some of the things I want to write about are difficult: the grief of loss; the feeling that true healing will never really come; the feeling in the pit of your stomach when you hear a friend or family member say, "guess what?!" and you know what's coming next. Not because you don't want happiness for your loved one. Or anyone else for that matter. Nobody would wish something as horrible as losing a baby on someone else. Ever.

But that pit-of-the-stomach feeling? To be honest, I still get that sometimes. And I have my sweet baby. But not my first one. Not a day goes by that I don't think of what she would look like. Would she have been chubby like Dorothy? Would she have looked less like me and more like David? Would there not be the feeling of dread instead of excitement at a pregnancy announcement even though I have a baby in my arms now if I hadn't lost her? I knew she couldn't be replaced. So, why am I so surprised that I still have the same feelings popping to the surface?

I remember all too well the first weeks after Kaily was born. The regret over not THINKING enough to ask to see and hold her. The nights that would drag on. Waking up only to remember, 'that's right. I'm not pregnant any more.' Crying so hard, but still feeling like no tears would ever be enough. Screaming at the top of my lungs when nobody was around just to feel like I was doing something with it all. At the time I felt like nobody could understand it. And to tell you the truth, sometimes I still feel that way. Because we all have our own journey even if similar things happen to some of us. We'll NEVER know just exactly how the other person feels.

In talking with someone from church last week, I was floored. I tried not to show my reaction on the outside, but I don't know how successful I was. We were talking about that difficult time last year and how she was praying for me. She proceeded to talk about all the single older ladies that never even got the chance to even try to get pregnant and how at least I had that chance. Not to minimize my pain or anything. I get that. I really do. There is a lot of grief in never having a partner in this life. In going to bed alone every night. In losing the hope of having children. I am blessed and thankful that I'm not in that situation. But there is a dark, dark grief in losing a child that changes a person. I really think that kind of grief is different than losing the idea of having a child (call me naive if you want to). Maybe I am totally off in left field with this one.

Some people it changes for the better. Hopefully, I am one of those people. But there are parts of me that are still envious of people that can just get pregnant and have fun planning and getting things ready. People who can plan their family without thinking how they'll care for their child when they have to lay in bed for 5 months. People who don't have to think of getting their tubes tied after their first or second child because of how taxing a pregnancy could become, especially the thought that there is no guarantee that the next one would go as well as the previous one.

Those people don't have to freak out in their minds about their insurance premiums going up and having to switch insurances because an extra $50 a week isn't in the budget. They would find another Dr. and move on with it. The first thing that went through my mind was "What if I get pregnant?? Who is going to be my doctor? Will they take the same good care of me as Dr. F? Will I lose another child?" Truthfully, I don't even want to get pregnant again if I can't have Dr. F. But how badly I want to be pregnant again, to have another child. I wanted 6 kids before all of this. That dream died hard and fast.

So, can't I at least have one more???

I can't lose another baby.

That's why I'm making diapers......


my4kids said...

Your not in left field in thinking there is a huge difference in accually losing a child and losing the idea of having children. In my opionion anyway... I never lost one and have 4 but I understand the envy of people who can get pregnant and not worry. With Izzak I worried all the time as the drs were constantly thinking something new was wrong either his heart or something else. In the end he was okay, or so we thought... Joshua I spent months supposed to be on bedrest but how do you do that with a one year old? Then he was a preemie and we both almost died becuase of it. Then after that it was never the same just constant fear with the girls pregnancy's feeling like what is going to happen this time? Not to mention the feal of any contractions which they new my uterus couldn't handle. It would have been nice to have one normal one with no fears I feel envious of people who get to have a normal birth with or without an epidural... plus so much more... I am feeling a little reflectiv this week though since Joshua turned 10 on tuesday which is the anniversary of his birth yes but also the day we both nearly died. It is sad I have so many bad memories of his birth..
I know you will never "get over" losing Kaily and you shouldn't really forget her since she is a part of you, David and even Dorothy but I hope it gets easier. I also hope that future pregnancies won't be so hard..

Tonya said...

I really must agree with the PP. To be honest I am terrified to have another child. I am terrified of becoming pregnant but how I would so love to have just one more... I just keep thinking back to our experience with Randie and I cannot do that again.. Anyway.. your blog is not becoming boring and it is great to have you actually blogging these day :)

The Princess said...

Your feelings are valid. I'm a little shocked that that comment was made to you, but not completely surprised. After I miscarried you wouldn't believe how many people said "Well,at least you know you can get pregnant" or "You can always adopt". People just don't think sometimes.

My husband and I are talking about trying again next summer. I loved being pregnant with my daughter. But I didn't love the worry and panic. We almost miscarried her pregnancy also, just weeks after the first miscarriage. Can I really go through that again? But somehow we do.

I love coming and reading all about your amazing daughters. YOu are not boring!!

Lori Rode said...

As one of those (formerly) "older" single ladies at church, may I apologize on behalf of our fellow church member. It is hard to hear one's own grief minimized by comparing it to someone elses. Yes, many women have complicated grief issue surrounding children, reproduction, pregnancy, marriage/singleness, etc. But nobody else's grief is exactly like your own. And you get to deal with your own. We do miss Kaily. We do rejoice with you over Dorothy. Hugs to you and your family.

And remembering all the stupid things well-meaning church people said to me as I slogged through to the age of 38 as a discontented Christian single, here's hoping I can remember not to say stupid things to others, when I cannot fully understand their grief.

Here I am, trying to love God and love my neighbor....


Melissa said...

I don't think I have anything to add on to what the others have already said. I just wanted to send you some *hugs* and let you know I'm thinking about you. People who haven't gone through what you've been through just can't understand. Period. I lost one very good friend when we lost Austin, because she just couldn't understand my pain and told me I was being selfish. I haven't spoken to her since.
And, like you, while this pregnancy has been going great so far (by the grace of God) who knows what the future holds. I, too, wanted a large family with lots of kids. I guess we will just have to see on that. ((HUGS)) Becci!

sarah said...

((((hugs)))) Believe me, I understand the uncertainty that comes next.

I think a big part of my PPD is knowing that, in my situation, I can't have anymore. Due to the state of my uterus during the c-section, we were warned that it could have disastrous effects to try to carry another pregnancy.

It's so strange; growing up you never imagine these things--you just picture a house full of kids and that's it.

I dont' know the pain of losing a child and I can't even begin to wrap my brain around that. You are so strong for pulling through that and bringing Dorothy here. I pray you'll have the joy of bringing more babies to the world! :-)

purple_kangaroo said...

Becci, sometimes people say stupid things. They just do. I'm sorry.

You can't compare things, really. I've had a few people tell me that they understand what we're going through with Baby E because their baby had colic and cried a lot for 6 weeks, or 9 weeks, or whatever.

I think, "9 weeks. 9 weeks is such a short time." But I don't say it. I know that 9 weeks of inconsolable screaming seems like an eternity.

I just say, "It's hard, isn't it, when your baby cries and you can't comfort them." And I feel for them. I know it was hard for them.

Then I get an e-mail from someone who tells me her child was in a level purple 90% of the time for 3 years. Three years. And my little troubles seem so small in comparison.

What I try not to think about is diagnoses. The parents whose children never do get better. The prognosis with some of the things they'll be trying to rule out for Baby E.

I try not to think about a scenario where she has a very serious illness that's not going to go away. But other parents, they have to face that. And, somehow, they survive.

But you can't compare and contrast things like that, can you? You just know that nobody else can truly understand what you've experienced.

I don't understand your pain, but I respect it. And I care.