Children

When I lost Taylor, I don't envy the conversation my sister in law had to have my nieces and nephews.  My very advance planning sister in law had already thought out, and discussed with my god daughter, having my baby shower the weekend of her first communion when our far flung family would all be in the same state.  I don't know what she told them, but I know she told them.

I don't speak of Taylor often or very openly.  But during my last visit with the family, my god daughter was sitting on my lap when she noticed I was wearing a necklace and a ring with the same stone on them.  

"Is that your birthstone?" She asked.

"No, that's Taylor's birthstone."

"Who is Taylor?"

I don't know if they ever knew Taylor's name.  But I was still somewhat surprised by the question.  

"She was my baby."

"Oh, the one who died."

I don't know how to deal with adults, so I assumed children would be more complicated.  This doesn't seem to be the case.  She hugged me, looked at the ring intently for a minute and then concluded:

"It's pretty."  She hugged me, hopped down, and asked if she could play on my iPad again.  

I wish it was as easy with grown ups....

Keep Calm and Carry On.

This phrase, and poster, has been my anthem lately.  Keep Calm.  Carry On.  Simple instructions.

I started off this month (which was recent, because when you live your life by the whims of your body, months are no longer calendar months, fyi) feeling surprisingly upbeat, positive and with a healthy, happy perspective of the coming month.  For the first time in months, I started taking my vitamins again, committed to solving my hydration problem again.  I even wrote a menu in our kitchen! (first I had to scrape off the most recent one on the white board, which included EASTER!)  I've not lost all of that optimism yet, but my body went ahead and graphically demonstrated to me that I am indeed, not really okay.

The human mind, I'm finding, is really quite an amazing thing.  My mind had completely forgotten what is was like that last time we did this exact same thing.  The good part of that is that I can start off over and over again with blind optimism.  The bad part, is the soul crushing realization; again.

I can't do anything.  I can't fix anything.  I can't do this again and again.  I'm hopeless, I'm scared, I don't know what to do... but the instructions are repeated to me every time I look at my phone or unlock my iPad.

Keep Calm and Carry On.

And so, at least for now, I do.

Breast Cancer and Baby Loss

There was a time in my life when October was my favorite month of the year.  I have always adored Halloween.

But sometimes Halloween is too scary.  In 2004, I spent Halloween preparing for surgery to remove cancer cells from my breast.  That Halloween sucked (as did much of the year that followed).  Then I found out/realized October is breast cancer awareness month.  Breast Cancer is scary, but not fun scary.  My zest for October waned.  This year, I found out October is also apparently dedicated to baby loss memorials.  Really October?  Stab a little closer to home, why don't you?

Writing this, I've tried to compare or contrast the ways I got through my breast cancer battle with the way I'm struggling through my struggle with, well whatever you want to call this current struggle.

When I was sick, it was just me that was sick.  No babies were dying.  It was pre-Gavin so I didn't even have a relationship to worry about losing.  It was about me.  I was sick, but I'd be damned if I was gonna let me slow me down from achieving my goals, even the goal of completing the current semester.  Do you know what I paid for these books!  I was undeniably selfish but ridiculously adamant that I take care of me myself.   

I was bitter and I thought God was a giant ass.  I failed miserably at connecting with anyone and just wanted to get through it in my own way. In a lot of ways, it's not that different than how I feel now.  I had my face set, my arms crossed, stomping and pissed off.  To be honest, most of the time I don't know how I got through that or how I get through this day by day.  One foot in front of another.  Occasional "Why me, life's not fair" pity party.  Occasional tantrum, occasional object chucked across my room.

I couldn't do this without my husband.  It's rough sometimes, being in a relationship and having someone else's feelings and heart to worry about, but it is so comforting to know that you're in a relationship and someone else is worrying about your heart and feelings, too.

         

Nothing helps.

I quit therapy today.

Why I thought talking to a stranger would help, I do not know.  Maybe I'll go on anti-depressants.  God knows I'm depressed.  It will constitute a forfeit on my part.  It will mean I have given up.

It's not that I don't think antidepressants can help.  But I'm not depressed because my hormones are out of balance, although they may be.  I'm not depressed because my blood sugar is low.  I'm depressed because my babies died.   I'm depressed because I've struggled my whole life to swim past the tide only to see it suck me back up again.  I'm depressed because I'm losing touch with everything that ever made the nonstop swimming against the tide seem worth while.

I'm struggling as hard as I can, and I barely come above water long enough to take a breath before I'm sucked back down.  How long before there is too long between breaths and I don't get enough air?  

What would have been....

I wander around SJC. I know why I haven't been back here. We used to go to church here before she died. I pictured lazy Saturdays pushing her stroller, holding hands. Happy family...

It's the small things sometimes that make me want to really rip my heart out.

Or maybe I don't want to talk about it?

Sometimes groups are too much for me. There was a time when I rarely felt uncomfortable, regardless of the social situation.  It's different now.

There was a party.  Too many people, too much small talk.  So I escaped into the relative safety of the nintendo room with the kids.  No small talk here.  Only serious talk about how to smash the big fish boss at the end of the level.  And my input was neither required or requested.

Maybe it's because I used to be so social, so good at making others feel comfortable.  Whatever the reason, people don't like it when I'm not social.  They don't like it, and apparently my absence is noted, because they come looking for me.  To talk.  And now it's not small talk.

Now it's big talk  Or big small talk, which is worse.  Things like "If it's meant to be it will happen."  "Time heals all wounds."  Big small talk.  Next time I guess I'll stick with the regular small talk.

 

Broken

Sometimes, I am almost sure this has broken me. Like now.