I am in "The Pit". If you are a deadbabymama unfortunately you know exactly what I am talking about. For those of you that don't I have included the poem that explains "The Pit". To be honest I had been feeling really good. I went off all of my prescriptions and have been instead working with a nutritionist. Overall I am feeling much better, I was even able to sleep the past week without taking anything and even woke up and wasn't groggy or tired. Until today...until tonight. I have been crying on and off most of the day. I guess I was feeling a bit too good, so now the crash into "The Pit". It also didn't help I was cleaning out the purse I was using when I lost Logan. The reason it didn't help is that there were all sorts of reminders of my last few days with my baby boy. I found the discharge papers for the NST I had just 4 days before his passing, the baby shower invite and chocolate I had received at a fellow deadbabymamas rainbow baby shower, and all of Logan's ultrasound pictures from early on right up to the last one at 31 wks. I would say I was on the edge of "The Pit" and that just gave me that last push, down at the bottom I find myself. Its almost 12:30am and I am wide awake, cant sleep, cant turn my mind off. So I am here getting it all out, then hopefully I'll be able to get some sleep. I guess its a good thing I am only working tomorrow and then vacay for the rest of the week. I think I am going to attempt to organize the nursery while I am off. I say attempt b/c it really hasn't been touched since the days leading up to my loss. Everything that was in any other part of the house has been tossed in there and well its kinda of a disarray. I keep putting it off, put feel like it's time.
Lately I cant help but think about last year at this time. I would say emotionally I was just as bad off, maybe worse or maybe a little better depends on the day. See my OB had told us we should wait until Feb. to try again. But as November came around I was in a very bad place and decided to get a second opinion. Right around this time is when another OB told us that physically my body would be fine for another pregnancy and that only Tommy and I could decide when we were ready to try for another baby. December was our first month trying, actually our first and last. On Dec. 23 I took a home pregnancy test thinking there was no way it would be positive it was only our first month and I kept telling myself not to get upset. But there was that word "PREGNANT". I was ecstatic. Hard to believe its a year later and I am once AGAIN in the same shoes I was back then. Another push into "The Pit". Its dark, cold and lonely in "The Pit". I keep seeing all the proud parents showing off pictures of their rainbow babies. So many are going out and getting pictures taken of their little ones and their happy little family. Don't get me wrong I am happy for them but it stings every time I see them. My heart is broken and there is no mending. Sure in time I will once again figure out how to live as a deadbabymama and move forward but once again it will take TIME. Time is a funny thing, as adults we always say that time flies, as children time seemed so slow when we were in school and then flew over summer break. Time sees to stand still when we are eagerly awaiting something. Just hurry up and get here. For me time varies. One day it feels as though it was only yesterday that I held Emma and Logan in my arms. Other days it feel like an eternity. Right now February seems so far, far away. Time...a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a month, a year. No matter what way I look at it right now I only see the darkness of "The Pit". It will take time for me to find my way out again. SIGH...
~The Pit~
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life, waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.
The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair, it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.
Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.
Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.
Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.
My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit.
Author Unknown
~My Shoes~
I am wearing a pair of shoes
They are ugly shoes
uncomfortable shoes
I hate my shoes
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I
do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them
I get funny looks wearing these shoes
They are looks of sympathy
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad
they are my shoes and not theirs
They never talk about my shoes
To learn how awful my shoes are
might make them uncomfortable
To truly understand these shoes
you must walk in them
But once you put them on, you can never take them off
I realize that I am not the only one
who wears these shoes
There are many pairs in the world
Some woman are like me and ache
daily as they walk in them
Some have learned how to walk in them
so that they don't hurt quite so much
Some have worn the shoes so long
that days will go before they think
about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman
These shoes have given me strength
to face anything
They have made me who I am
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
- Author Unknown -
Lately I cant help but think about last year at this time. I would say emotionally I was just as bad off, maybe worse or maybe a little better depends on the day. See my OB had told us we should wait until Feb. to try again. But as November came around I was in a very bad place and decided to get a second opinion. Right around this time is when another OB told us that physically my body would be fine for another pregnancy and that only Tommy and I could decide when we were ready to try for another baby. December was our first month trying, actually our first and last. On Dec. 23 I took a home pregnancy test thinking there was no way it would be positive it was only our first month and I kept telling myself not to get upset. But there was that word "PREGNANT". I was ecstatic. Hard to believe its a year later and I am once AGAIN in the same shoes I was back then. Another push into "The Pit". Its dark, cold and lonely in "The Pit". I keep seeing all the proud parents showing off pictures of their rainbow babies. So many are going out and getting pictures taken of their little ones and their happy little family. Don't get me wrong I am happy for them but it stings every time I see them. My heart is broken and there is no mending. Sure in time I will once again figure out how to live as a deadbabymama and move forward but once again it will take TIME. Time is a funny thing, as adults we always say that time flies, as children time seemed so slow when we were in school and then flew over summer break. Time sees to stand still when we are eagerly awaiting something. Just hurry up and get here. For me time varies. One day it feels as though it was only yesterday that I held Emma and Logan in my arms. Other days it feel like an eternity. Right now February seems so far, far away. Time...a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a month, a year. No matter what way I look at it right now I only see the darkness of "The Pit". It will take time for me to find my way out again. SIGH...
~The Pit~
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life, waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.
The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair, it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.
Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.
Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.
Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.
My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit.
Author Unknown
~My Shoes~
I am wearing a pair of shoes
They are ugly shoes
uncomfortable shoes
I hate my shoes
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I
do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them
I get funny looks wearing these shoes
They are looks of sympathy
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad
they are my shoes and not theirs
They never talk about my shoes
To learn how awful my shoes are
might make them uncomfortable
To truly understand these shoes
you must walk in them
But once you put them on, you can never take them off
I realize that I am not the only one
who wears these shoes
There are many pairs in the world
Some woman are like me and ache
daily as they walk in them
Some have learned how to walk in them
so that they don't hurt quite so much
Some have worn the shoes so long
that days will go before they think
about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman
These shoes have given me strength
to face anything
They have made me who I am
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
- Author Unknown -
Thanks for reading and listening. Going to try and get some sleep. Night...
6 comments:
The purse, the nursery, the calendar: all pitfalls.
When I see other babies, I keep in mind that they are not my child. If I lost my husband, I would still be able to see my friends husbands- they are individuals and not my loved one.
Hugs to you Manda. I'm so sorry you have found yourself in the pit. But, it stinks that your babies are not here and that you only have their memories.
Be kind to yourself.
Manda {{{{{{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}}}}} No words only cyber hugs
I'm so sorry you're feeling this way. Take it easy this week. I'll be thinking of you and hoping you find your way out of the pit.
Monica
Manda, I found out I was pregnant with my daughter on December 21st of last year. The day after my birthday. I keep on thinking about "this time last year..." We alos have to wait until March before we are even able to think about another baby.
Hugs to you. You're right. It all takes time.
I'm sorry that you're in the pit...it sucks. I feel like I see babies every time I turn around and it still makes me cry. I pray that next year is a year filled with hope and rainbow babies.
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