That is what the ticker at the bottom of my blog reads.
I just checked it because the tickers on several of the blogs I read are blank today. But William's ticker isn't blank and reading it caused me to think that maybe my overwhelmingly emotional state is not just because of the conversation Mr. C and I had Thursday night. I talked on the phone with Mothership (this is what we call Mr. C's mom) a little while ago and somethng she said perhaps moved my thinking in this direction as well.
She asked how I was doing and she could hear in my voice that I am not well. I told her that I am tired and crampy and whatnot and her response was something to the effect that it must be hard to have a physical reminder that I don't have the baby that I want so badly. Huh. She said other things as well...somehow hearing someone else speak of William and use his name is always at once comforting as well as painful.
I am hurting with every part of me and tears are flowing so frequently and heavily. Yesterday I tried to hide them from Mr. C but it ended up being impossible. I just wish there was some way to flip a switch or something and feel differently. I am so tired of feeling sad and helpless.
I miss my baby boy. I also miss the feeling I once had that I was never alone, that the Lord was always there for me and I could find comfort in difficult times through prayer. I know I've covered this ground before and that I really should actively work towards sorting things out for myself.
When I was in labor there was a time when I was certain that William had passed. I remember it in a foggy sort of way (I was under the influence of a mixture of shock and morphine) and I know that I told Mr. C and Mothership that he was in the arms of the Lord. I felt that so strongly. And that is the sort of thing that was common throughout my life--from the time I was a child. I'm not saying that I would have visions or anything...but very strong feelings of a divine presence. It seems to me that that is the last that I have felt either the presence of the divine/the Lord or the presence of William/his spirit. And now it is just me. Alone.
*William was born on February 1st, 2006
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9 comments:
It is always comforting when someone else uses your child's name. William. Would you have called him William or would you have shortened it to Bill or Will or something like that?
You said, "I know I've covered this ground before and that I really should actively work towards sorting things out for myself." It's the hard thing, but I've found that I needed to go over things again and again and again before even feeling like I was taking one step. Even that one step might slide back and I've had to take it again. So I think that sounds normal to me.
And A's ticker is blank and it's annoying me no end.
Hi Rosepetal:)
We would have called him Liam if he had lived. But we don't call him that, we call him William. I didn't realize how much I really loved the name until it was attached to him.
Thank you for your perspective about needed to go ove things again and again...you are so right.
I wish I knew what was going on with the tickers. This is the case of at least three other blogs besides yours, but I'm not sure why some are working and some aren't.
I didn't realize that A died exactly a year after William. I am sorry that January will never be the same for either of us.
And I think Rosepetal is right that we need to go over things time and time again to make any kind of progress. I even sometimes reread my own posts several times. As if checking to see that what I said still holds.
Reading about people getting "a feeling" makes me feel a little less abnormal. One day I will tell of the things I knew that way.
I'm so glad Mothership speaks of William, and uses his name.
I had "a feeling" too, a certain knowledge that Natan was gone at a particular moment. It's so much like what you described - suddenly being alone.
I don't think the switch would be a good thing, as attractive as it sounds. I think of you and Mr. C often, hoping you're having better days soon.
I kind of have the same feelings about being all alone. Although, for me, it's a little different in that I feel deserted not by G-d, but by my family and friends.
I read your conversation with Mr. C's mom and was just amazed. My parents would never bring up the twins or say anything about them.
If I mention that I'm feeling sad, they tell me that I'm wallowing in my grief and that I should be over it by now and moving on with my life, instead of obsessing in such an unhealthy manner. They tell me that there's clearly something very wrong with me that my grief is dragging on and on.
They tell me I need to stop being so selfish and take more pleasure in my siblings' pregnancies and babies instead of avoiding them. Then they tell me that I need to increase my dosage of antidepressants.
Niobe: wow, I am so sorry that the people in your life seem to "know" so much about what is "good" for you or how you "should" be handling things. I wish there was a way for me to show them how wrong they are. I may have mentioned it before, but Mothership is a nurse and years ago was a grief counselor with the Compassionate Friends. In so many ways she does know, maybe not what is good/the best for me, but she has a much better idea than many people do.
Sara: I think you are right, that flipping a switch--were it actually possible--wouldn't be for the best.
Today I made an appointment with a new therapist. She can't see me until late next week (and right now that feels like a million years away) but I am so glad I have made the appointment. She told me that while she doesn't specialize in couples counseling she would be open to seeing both of us for some visits if we feel like that is needed. I spoke on the phone with my sister yesterday--finally reached out to someone--and she also feels like I really need to open up with Mr. C about my fears/feelings. She does understand, though, that in many ways what he is going through isn't *about me.* But at the same time our marriage is affected by all of this. Oh, I know I am rambling...and in the comments section no less. But this is where I am right now (emotionally and physically). The pain is still there, while I haven't cried yet today I still feel on the verge much of the time. The fact that I haven't just broken down is a step forward from yesterday, though. And I am back to having to force myself to eat. Yes, I am doing what I can, but it is so hard when I feel like this. ok.enough.
Oh, sorry... I saw your profile said February later, and I realized that the ticker must have been screwy.
Still, I will remember your date now.
Hi Michelle,
I thought I would check in on how you are doing. I think of you often.
This particular post struck me as I have been having the same feelings. Derick, my family, his family...all are telling me that I should actively work towards moving on. But I feel as though I'm the only one that remembers them, and if I move on then they won't have anyone. I'm glad that Mothership will talk to you about William. My IL's talk about Dylan and Riley often, but usually in the context of "I wish they were here." instead of "It must be hard to feel this way..." My family-- forget it. They've stopped trying and I gave up.
Just like the other girls stated, I knew with Dylan that it was going to happen. When I first found out I was pregnant, I was like a crazy person because I had this horrible gut feeling. I researched all the different ways that things could go wrong and avoided them. Ironically, the only thing I didn't research was IC. However with Riley, my heart told me that it couldn't happen again. So I trusted my faith, my heart, my doctors...loosing him shook everything that I believed in. Perhaps that is why it's so difficult for me to move on...it's more than just grief.
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