Since I lost Ada, I have been spending a lot of time on a message board for women who have had similar losses. It has been so helpful to me because I feel like I have a group of people to "listen" to me who know what I have been going through. Anyway, one of the things that a lot of them do that seems to help is to keep a blog about their experiences. So, I decided to give this a try. I feel like, for one thing, it will help those who care about me and want to know how I'm doing. Also, sometimes I just want to tell everybody about Ada...I hate the fact that it seems to be taboo to talk about her. So, even if nobody reads this, at least I will feel like I am telling the world about my baby. Most of the other people who blog started when they first lost the baby, so I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do!
Last Saturday made it one month since Ada was born. I really have been getting better over the last few weeks, and my good or okay days have started to outnumber the bad. Last Friday night I thought I was fine and I went in Ada's room. I go in there every day or two - it just helps me to remember her. The room isn't finished. The painting that we ordered two days before we found out she was gone is sitting on the floor. The crib is put together but it doesn't have a mattress or any kind of bedding. There are a bunch of stuffed animals that I had gathered to put on a shelf, but there is no shelf yet. There are clothes hanging in the closet for her, but they all still have the tags on them. Anyway, sometimes when I go in there I smile and think about how much I enjoyed the few months I had her. Other times though, I cry. Last Friday night, I wept. I looked in her baby book where I had been writing the night before we found out. There's a blank page in there about bringing her home from the hospital and that was just so difficult to look at. I never dreamed I would be bringing home her ashes. There's a tiny little outfit in the closet that I had imagined her wearing on the day she came home. Anyway, it was so strange how that night I was just led to go in there. I wasn't even feeling sad; I just knew that I needed to go in her room. I guess it had been building up for a while.
And then there's her picture... Hunter and I took the camera with us to the hospital, but we chose not to take any pictures of her. It's a decision I regret now, but there's nothing I can do. The hospital took a picture of her though, and we got it about 3 weeks after she was born. Her hands are so cute in it, but overall she doesn't look as good as when we first held her. Still, I treasure that picture and I go look at it every couple of days. I just never want to forget what my daughter looked like. It's sad to me though, that it's a picture that probably nobody will ever want to see. I'm not saying that I expect people to want to see it - it is a little disturbing - but it's the whole situation that makes me so sad. I wish that everybody could see her the way I did when I first held her...she was so perfect.
Going back to school last Monday was hard - it was a lot harder than I had expected, actually. I had really been looking forward to it because I thought it would give my life a sense of normalcy and that I could just pour myself into teaching to keep myself busy. Well, it's not really working. I get distracted easily and I don't have the motivation that I thought I would. I think I'm doing an adequate job, but I wanted to be "Super Teacher" this year. Of course, I haven't had much of a chance yet since we only had one day of school before getting all of these days off for Tropical Storm Fay. The other hard part was seeing people. The thing that I feared most did happen - another teacher came up to me and said "How is the baby doing?!" Obviously, she didn't know, and I guess my loose fitting shirt didn't really help. But actually, that wasn't so bad. What was bad was when I knew that most people knew that I had "lost the baby" and felt badly for me, but didn't really know what happened. I knew they were all thinking that I had just had a miscarriage. I just wanted to yell to all of them that it was NOT just a miscarriage! I HELD MY BABY! I was in labor for 32 hours! (And contractions are contractions, no matter how big the baby is!) I named her! We buried her! But of course, I didn't do that. :) Instead, I wrote an email telling them the basics of what happened and that I just wanted them all to know because I NEEDED for them to know. It was received very well and I am grateful for the responses I got. I work with some wonderful people.
Well, these are the main things I can think of right now. I'm sure I'll come up with more soon.
Last Saturday made it one month since Ada was born. I really have been getting better over the last few weeks, and my good or okay days have started to outnumber the bad. Last Friday night I thought I was fine and I went in Ada's room. I go in there every day or two - it just helps me to remember her. The room isn't finished. The painting that we ordered two days before we found out she was gone is sitting on the floor. The crib is put together but it doesn't have a mattress or any kind of bedding. There are a bunch of stuffed animals that I had gathered to put on a shelf, but there is no shelf yet. There are clothes hanging in the closet for her, but they all still have the tags on them. Anyway, sometimes when I go in there I smile and think about how much I enjoyed the few months I had her. Other times though, I cry. Last Friday night, I wept. I looked in her baby book where I had been writing the night before we found out. There's a blank page in there about bringing her home from the hospital and that was just so difficult to look at. I never dreamed I would be bringing home her ashes. There's a tiny little outfit in the closet that I had imagined her wearing on the day she came home. Anyway, it was so strange how that night I was just led to go in there. I wasn't even feeling sad; I just knew that I needed to go in her room. I guess it had been building up for a while.
And then there's her picture... Hunter and I took the camera with us to the hospital, but we chose not to take any pictures of her. It's a decision I regret now, but there's nothing I can do. The hospital took a picture of her though, and we got it about 3 weeks after she was born. Her hands are so cute in it, but overall she doesn't look as good as when we first held her. Still, I treasure that picture and I go look at it every couple of days. I just never want to forget what my daughter looked like. It's sad to me though, that it's a picture that probably nobody will ever want to see. I'm not saying that I expect people to want to see it - it is a little disturbing - but it's the whole situation that makes me so sad. I wish that everybody could see her the way I did when I first held her...she was so perfect.
Going back to school last Monday was hard - it was a lot harder than I had expected, actually. I had really been looking forward to it because I thought it would give my life a sense of normalcy and that I could just pour myself into teaching to keep myself busy. Well, it's not really working. I get distracted easily and I don't have the motivation that I thought I would. I think I'm doing an adequate job, but I wanted to be "Super Teacher" this year. Of course, I haven't had much of a chance yet since we only had one day of school before getting all of these days off for Tropical Storm Fay. The other hard part was seeing people. The thing that I feared most did happen - another teacher came up to me and said "How is the baby doing?!" Obviously, she didn't know, and I guess my loose fitting shirt didn't really help. But actually, that wasn't so bad. What was bad was when I knew that most people knew that I had "lost the baby" and felt badly for me, but didn't really know what happened. I knew they were all thinking that I had just had a miscarriage. I just wanted to yell to all of them that it was NOT just a miscarriage! I HELD MY BABY! I was in labor for 32 hours! (And contractions are contractions, no matter how big the baby is!) I named her! We buried her! But of course, I didn't do that. :) Instead, I wrote an email telling them the basics of what happened and that I just wanted them all to know because I NEEDED for them to know. It was received very well and I am grateful for the responses I got. I work with some wonderful people.
Well, these are the main things I can think of right now. I'm sure I'll come up with more soon.
2 comments:
There's a poem I have that's hanging on my wall in my office at work. It has been with me every day since last summer when I received some very frightening news. It has helped me every day. While my situation was much different than yours, it may be of help you too.
The Guest House:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary
awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who violently
sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat
each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet
them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be greatful for whoever comes, because each has
been sent as a guide from beyond.
Hello Beth,
I think none of us can barely understand what you have been going through, however I can imagine it has been very difficult times. I think it's good that you can put all this suffering into words, and though, you'll never forget Ada, I'm sure you'll overcome this suffering and you'll feel better.
I've been reading your blog, and I want to tell you, you don't have to feel guilty for your thoughts...that's human. We all ask ourselves why some people have what we want and don't even realize how important those things are.
Life is tough sometimes, but it helps us to appreciate good times better. I'm sure Hunter and you will overcome this. I know words are empty sometimes, but they also help us to express feelings ... all my love and support to you. :)
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