Up days are always followed by down days.....always. I don't know what it is but it always happens. Yesterday was a good day but today sucked. Perhaps its because my good little night sleeper is no more a good little night sleeper. Perhaps it is because we were up at 4am ready to get our day started, well at least little miss was, Lord knows I sure as hell was not! Perhaps it was the sunny cool weather, no couldn't be that, I love that kind of weather. Perhaps it was the fact that they ran out of mint chocolate chip ice cream, no couldn't be that either because they had an equally as yummy mint chocolate cup ice cream. Perhaps it was the nice drive out to Ilderton this morning to get Bee weighed, no couldn't be that either, the drive was very freeing. Perhaps it was hearing that little miss is growing (shes a very tall baby) maybe that's it. Maybe knowing my little girl is growing up so quickly is tugging at my heart. No that can't be it because I love who she is becoming.
Some days there is just not an answer to why I feel the way I do. Some days I just feel crappy just because. I know the exhaustion doesn't help and little miss has been BESIDE herself today, I mean a HOT HOT mess. I swear there will be a tooth in a few days, there has to be. I don't know what else could be causing my little lady to be having a hell of a day, I told her she was too young to be waking up on the wrong side of the crib, that is only for adults.
Some days I just need to allow myself to feel crappy. Eat ice cream, lounge on the couch, turn the TV on, do what I need to do to make it through the day. Some days I need to vent about my frustrations, the fact we don't own our own home and there's so much I want to do but can't because of that, Some days I just need to swear. Some days I just want to throw myself a fucking pity party because you know what? My life fucking sucks. You know why? Because I buried my first two children, who the fuck has to do that and is expected to come out even stronger? Sure people tell me all the time how strong I am but that's just the damn fake smile and the "I'm doing okay" bullshit all grieving people tell others. Most days I feel like crumbling. I feel like staying in bed and sleeping ,which I did a lot after the boys, but now I have a beautiful daughter who depends on me. I do it now for her.
Some days I get pissed off at our neighbour because who honestly tints their fucking house windows? I've NEVER heard of this. This started with her telling us we need to keep the curtains and blinds shut. For one thing, you don't get to decide that so no and another thing, like I mentioned, I am suffering some serious PTSD and GAD and I NEED the windows/curtains/blinds open. I NEED as much natural light as possible, even my doctor told me it is important to get as much natural light as I possibly can. I NEED to see outside to help me mentality so I NEED the curtains and blinds open as much as possible as long as possible and now your going to fucking tint the windows? SERIOUSLY?????
Not only that we have a SHARED backyard. I think some people need to learn how to share. I would love to have a swing set for Bee, get her a sand box and a water table, heck I'd even LOVE to have a compost but no, can't happen here. Oh and the dreams I have for hanging my laundry outside on a line, oh...so sweet.
Some days I get frustrated with everything, all of it, even my husband sometimes. He just doesn't seem to understand that some days there is no explanation. Perhaps it is best said that everything relates to the boys dying. I mean if they hadn't died we would not be here. I don't know where we would be but I know it wouldn't be here. I don't know if it would be better or worse but at least we'd still have our innocence. At least if I was feeling anxious, frustrated, annoyed, pissed off, upset or sad I'd probably be able to figure out why instead of always feeling that way and not knowing why.
As much as I like having good days, they inevitably are always followed by bad days and I'm not talking just everyday normal bad, I mean bad where I want to smash glass plates (then make pretty artwork with them) where I want to scream and cry and throw a fit. I want to kick my legs and yell and cuss just because I can. Because I can't pinpoint what the hell is wrong with me and I feel there has to be an explanation. It can't always be about the boys dying....or can it? What ever it is I hate it and I want it gone. I want to have happy days NOT followed by hell days.
Speaking of hell days, I need to get to bed, little miss not a good night sleeper will be up shortly I am sure! Get as much sleep in as I can at night because we all know how much she despises sleeping during the day. Please don't get me wrong though, I love the shit out of that little girl, grumpy non sleeper and all, she is my fucking world!
I had another blog all typed and ready to go but I felt I needed to post a different one instead, I can fill you all in on the effing window tints later. I just wanted to say that today was a good day. A bit of s surprise since little miss has not been sleeping and we were up yet again from 12-4am. I don't know exactly what it was about today but it was good. I woke up exhausted and decided since I didn't sleep and felt like poo that I was going to go work out, hoping it would give me some energy. I know the Y I've been attending has a Zumba class and I've really wanted to go. I use to go to Zumba way back when I worked at the law firm and used our on site gym. It was fun, I always liked it and even though I looked like a fish out of water, it was still just fun.
I asked Stephen to watch Bee (avoiding the day care disaster yet again) and he happily obliged. The weather has been really cool lately, like fall and you all know how much I LOVE the fall weather. It was sunny this morning, such a beautiful morning. I ate breakfast, got ready and headed out. As I was driving Hedley came on the radio, it brought me back to when I first moved here and was working at the University. I listened to Hedley all the time. It did make me a bit sad to think back to that time, even the weather reminded me of it, but it wasn't a heavy heart sadness, if that makes any sense. I went to class and had such a great time. It felt so good just to shake it all out, I was even legitimately smiling, of course it was because I felt like such a noob and looked ridiculous, but it was fun! I left feeling really good and it just put me in a pretty good mood.
The afternoon was pretty good as well, I went to see the psychiatrist and she was 45 minutes late, but I wasn't too upset or pissed off. Actually I just felt bad for Bee. She was doing so well and then we had to wait and it did make me angry that my daughter had to wait and get all fussy. But like her awesome self, she did well and made a lot of people smile. The app was meh, decided to get a script for meds but have not made the decision to start them yet. Got referred to someone outside of the hospital for social work so I will try that option first. To be honest, the one and only reason I am not on meds and really want to wait is because even though theres a very small percent that gets into the breastmilk, it still worries me. I know there have been tons of studies on the effects for babies but if I can make it without them for now and not risk my daughter at all, I'm willing to try. But, if need be, I know the percent that is passed to her is very small, if any so if I just can't handle things, I will start at that point. We headed home, got some snuggles in, put her to bed, ate an awesome dinner, worked on my new blog (stay tuned for that update) and am heading to bed myself.
I just felt, I dont want to say normal or like my old self, but I felt good today. Perhaps a small piece of who I use to be, though it will never be the same, it was there. I did have moments that were bittersweet, thinking back to my innocent time but it didn't get me down, it didn't put me in a bad mood, it didn't make me feel pity, it just made me a bit sad but that was it. I am really thankful and do truly feel blessed but most days I don't feel that and most days I don't see that, but today I did. Today was a good day. Just a forewarning, my next blog will not be as happy as today because of the effing window tints.....but for today, I am going to ignore that situation and enjoy the fact that I had a good day.
As a mother of loss, I still find it hard to live for the future. I still struggle when I am out to buy things for Bee that she would need a year or two from now (and are buying now because when you can get new clothes for $1 or $2 a piece, you get them) But it causes anxiety, though these days everything causes anxiety. I can't help but think if she'll get to wear them or if they too will get packed away unworn like Ty and Jacob's things. Every time I buy something I get that feeling of angst, wondering if I am jinxing her fate. I know it may seem silly to some, but when you've lost, your mind constantly goes there. This is why I have such a hard time leaving Bee with anyone (except my husband and my mom) My mind goes there, it goes to that terrible place.
It's one of the reasons I am having such a hard time answering the most recently asked common question, "are you going back to work"? Well I would LOVE to have a simple answer to this question, but to be honest it comes very much anxiety, fear, terror, heartache, frustration, just about every emotion you can think of. It's not an easy question and its most certainly not a clear cut answer. This question weighs not only heavily on my heart but for our wallet as well.
You see, we can't afford for me to stay home but we also can't afford for me to go back to work. Therein lies our problem. If I go back to work we have to pay for daycare, which in London the average cost is $1000 a month for full time and $600 for part time. If I go back to work we have to start paying Stephens student loan back, which is almost as much as daycare. Theoretically, if I was to go back to where I was working while pregnant with Bee, my take home pay wouldn't even cover the costs of the two things listed above, we'd actually be out some change. However, if I stay home, we don't pay for either but we don't have an income, though we aren't out any change.
My options are 1. Look for a new job that pays substantially well and who I am kidding, in this economy, I'd be lucky to find something comparable to what I currently make. I'm talking the pay needs to be well above $40,000 a year, more like $545,000 a year because even if I found a new job which pays a bit more, to Stephen and I, it's not worth it to only be bringing in an extra $300 a month when spending time with Bee is much more valueable. 2. Stay at home.
Let's be honest, after all I've been through, I feel entitled to stay at home with Bee for a bit longer. I cherish every moment I have with her, I don't want to miss a minute of her growing up and while she is little and at home, I want to be there for her. I want to be there with her.
Ideally it would be fantastic if I could think of something to do from home to bring in some extra cash. I thought about ring slings, but the cost to insure those is ridiculous, talking a few thousand per year, so that was a no. I can sew, but so can a lot of stay at home moms. I need to find something a lot of people don't make. I was thinking rag quilts because I never see people selling those but is that because there isn't a high want for those? I really have no idea, perhaps there is some service I can give (no not that kind of service) I just really don't know but I am determined to make this work, we are determined to make this work. I pray about it daily, pray for an answer, pray for guidance to show us how we can make this work. It has to, it simply has to.
Not only do I want to stay at home with Bee, but my PTSD and GAD are so bad right now, I don't think I could physically bring myself to do it. We all remember how leaving her for 15 minutes at the Y went. The thought of having to look for a new job or even to leave Bee with someone else makes me vomit, like seriously vomit. My heart races, my heart palpitates and I feel like I am going to pass out. It scares me so much there are days I think of packing Bee up and running away so I don't have to face it.
Thankfully Stephen is fully supportive of me staying home. He gets it, not only for my heart but for us financially. We simply have to make it work. I do not think I can bring myself to go back to work and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to go back where I was before (though we still have not made that decision) So really, I don't know if I am going back to work. It isn't a simple yes or no. It is a complex question filled with many branches which are causing me an extreme amount of anxiety. I mean epic proportions, not as epic as leaving Bee, but close!
So if any of my readers have any suggestions or want to share their lotto winnings, send me a message! I am determined to find something I can do from home to make this work. Stephen and I both know it comes with huge sacrifices (we'll probably never own our own home but a home is just a material object, family is what matters. We've pretty much concluded if I want to stay at home, owning a home is out of the question, unless I can think of a brilliant idea to do from home, it sucks yah, it really sucks. That or someone generous gives us their home LOL, yeah I had a good chuckle at that one too, hey a lady can hope) we have and continue to make sacrifices for our family, our family will always come first, even if it means we are poor, at least we have a whole lot of love.
But really, if you have genius ideas I can do from home that not every other stay at home mom is doing, enlighten me! Lord knows I need it these days.
Loving on my little lady because I can. She looks thrilled doesn't she?
Life is really all about the small victories right? I mean it has to be. Big ones are great but they don't happen as often. I had a small victory today and had to share. We were heading down to Folk Fest after swimming (which Bee and I had the entire pool to ourselves today, AWESOME!) I had on my maternity capris but they really are too big at this point, I do not need to look like I had extra junk in the trunk when I already have plenty there. I haven't bought any "regualr" clothes in over 3 years, hell I haven't even worn "regular" clothes in over 3 years. Yes I've been wearing maternity clothes for the last 3 years.
Anyways, I have no idea what size I am now, I thought surely after 3 full term children and child birth I'd have grown. I still have not lost all the baby weight but I only have 8 more pounds to go, total, including all that I gained with Ty and Jacob (and I gained A LOT with Jacob) so I thought for shits and giggles I'd try on my pre-baby capris that I still have laying around. I laughed, silly me thinking I could ever get back into those tiny pants after 3 children.....but.....they fit! My jaw hit the floor as I buttoned them up and was happily surprised they only gave me a slight muffin top, but after wearing for them a bit, the muffin top disappeared and I was comfortable. I was comfortable in my nice fitting NON maternity capris that my butt couldn't fit in for the last 3 years. YAH!!!!!! I don't have to go shopping now! If you don't know me, I dislike shopping for clothes, well for myself, I'm addicted to shopping for clothes for Bee. Small victory today.
I decided to stay in the fitness program I signed up for. Trust me, after last weeks fiasco I was ready to quit but Stephen said he would stay at home with Bee while I went to class and I know I need this for myself so on I go. Plus, we've really enjoyed going swimming as a family with the free pass.
I packed my bags to head to class today and for some reason I was still really anxious, to the point of almost puking again. I think it was because all I could think about was last week and how horrible I felt, how much I hated myself for putting Bee and I through that when neither of us was ready. But again, on I went. I do honestly want to get in shape and I know it's important for me to be the best I can for Bee. It's just really hard when the anxiety flairs up and all I want to do is sit at home rocking my baby girl, crying, and holding her tight. But I went.
Class went well, but it happened. It meaning, people stare at my tattoos and when I look at them and catch them staring,, they look the other way. They don't approach me, they stay away from me, avoiding me at all possible costs. I try and smile, talk but it doesn't go well because no one wants to talk to the girl who clearly has been through hell. No one asks questions, no one says Hi, how are you. They just rush away like I have the plague. I use to think it was me, I've never been a social person but I've really pushed myself a lot the last few years and sometimes no matter what I do, it happens and people flock away.
I ,know my grief defines a part of who I am, but I would like to think I am more. I mean I'm also a "new" parent and I feel I should do some of these new parent things but no matter how hard I try, no matter what group I go to or join, it always happens. I am branded. I sometimes wish I could always wear long sleeves to cover up my tattoos and perhaps if I moved to Alaska, that would be possible, but it's not. Sometimes I wish I could protect my boys and only share them with those who are gentle, with those whom are close to me. Sometimes I wish I could "fit" in, I wish I had the happy, joyful experiences all new parents had. But I can't. It's not like I wish to be popular, I've never been nor have I ever wanted to be. I've always become friends with those others don't like or make fun of and to be honest, their some of the best friends. Yes we have gone our ways but their friendships provided me a lot more and were deeper then the fake friendships of being popular.
But it hurts, oh how it hurts so much to be left on the sidelines. To be the one no one wants to talk to or everyone avoids because they don't want to go there. They don't care to know the dark place I have been , they don't care to see who I am because it makes them afraid. It hurts that after all the work I've put into trying, I'm still rejected because of it.
After today's class I feel like quitting again, I feel like throwing in my towel but I won't because I need this for me and I need this for my family. I cried the whole way home because of how hurtful peoples actions are. They think not talking to me or asking is the best option when little do they realize, it really hurts. I know they don't understand my pain, I know they can't fully understand why I have so many issues with leaving Bee, where as some of them are like FREEDOM! I can't do it and I know they can't fully understand why but it doesn't mean I don't care to talk,, it doesn't mean I don't care to check in, talk about new parent things, sleep deprived babies etc.
Its the same reason I stopped going to my PPD group, I simply could not sit there any longer and listen to them talk about getting back to normal. All these mothers who either went on meds or not, talked about being back to their normal selves. I will never be my "normal" self again, as I'm sure most new parents aren't either. But there are things that unlike most new parents, I will never go back to, no amount of medicine can help me with that. I'm still trying to find my new normal and it's hard when others reject the hurt, damaged and bruised. It's only the other hurt, damaged and bruised that I seek comfort in, that aren't afraid to look at me and ask about my tattoos, share my story, share their's and you know what, after that we talk about other things. Grief is not always who we are, we are more as people and I think others forget that.
I've never really had a lot of friends and it's mostly been by choice, but the friends I had and still have mean a lot to me. However, I have learned through my grief who my true friends are and who my acquaintances are and I'll admit, I was a bit surprised and hurt. Some may say I am over reacting, but I would invite you to come and watch, you'll see it happening. You'll see the stares, the avoidance, the rejection, it's there, I'm not making it up. I suppose I'm just set for a lonely road in life, stand by my close friends which really is all that matters.
Lord knows I am not pushing myself anymore, that just turns into a disaster! And on that note, it sounds like the cat pooped on the floor, better go check.
Life has been hard lately, I won't lie and perhaps some would say it's my own fault for not taking medication. However, even the doctor herself said that the medication only numbs your feelings, it doesn't solve problems, it doesn't make one happy, it doesn't make everything better. All it does is lets you function on a day to day basis and right now at this moment, I am still able to do that. Sure, I have my bad days but I handle them.
I've been dealing with flashbacks lately. This is something completely new to me, I've never had them before and I don't know what prompted them. I guess it's one of the effects of PTSD. The first one happened a few days ago while we were swimming with Bee. We decided to get as much use out of our YMCA pass as we can, within reason because we're both pretty unmotivated to go and walk on the treadmill and lord knows after the other day Bee will NOT be using the child minding services so we decided to go to family swim. Bee is still pretty undecided about it but we love going as a family and we love watching her learn.
Anyways, we were at family swim and the lifeguard gathers people around and does some songs with us and the babies. As we stood there singing row row row your boat it hit me. I felt so many things all at once and did everything I could to contain my sadness. Here we were, we were finally doing something I had longed for, envisioned for so many years and yet I was sad. I was sad for myself, I felt bad for myself. I swam singing row row row your boat with my miracle child and I was sad. I was sad because I had wanted this for so long, I have thought about this for so long, dreamed about it for so long and as I was doing it I thought about everyone else there, how happy and innocent they were and here I was so sad and pissed off that I got a shit stick thrown at me on my path of life. It brought me right back to the innocence I had while pregnant with Ty. How naive I was to be pregnant and thinking that in a few short months we could all go swimming as a family, I felt the bliss of that pregnancy thinking it would be so easy. Never did I imagine my son, my first born child, would die inside me. Hell, I didn't even know babies died at all. But there I swam, my miracle in my arms and my heart somewhere else, my mind somewhere else. It hurt to think of it. It hurts to think of that time when we knew nothing.
The second time happened earlier today. I was rocking Bee to lay her down for bed and as I was sitting in the rocking chair I was looking at the pictures of Ty and Jacob above her bed and it brought me back to everything, everything to do with both of them. I stared hard to see because sometimes it feels like it never happened. Sometimes I feel so disconnected from them and sometimes I feel in the moment with them. It got me thinking about the rocking chair, the very same one I was uncomfortably sitting in but Bee had moved and I had to move to make her more comfortable. I sat there rocking and remembered I did the same thing with Ty. I sat in that chair with love, joy, bliss and ignorance thinking that in just a few short weeks I'd be nursing my newborn son in that chair. How wrong I was. I sat there thinking about when we found out we were pregnant with Jacob, before we knew about his condition. I yet again sat in that rocking chair envisioning holding my rainbow, but how wrong I was. My rainbow died.
It then brought me to being pregnant with Bee. I remember shortly after we moved to our new place I sat in that rocking chair yet again, staring at her pegboard, looking to the ceiling and to the boys pictures, praying, begging, crossing everything I had that this time, this time I would get to rock a sweet little baby in that chair. I stared at the crib and remembered the joy we experienced the first time we set it up, albeit, there were some cuss words but they were happy cuss words. We were setting up a crib for our sweet baby boy to sleep in, in his little room in the hallway. But he never got to use it. Instead, we sobbed and cussed some more as we took it down. We set it back up a second time, elated that we were going to get another chance, this time we knew what we were doing so there weren't as many cuss words but surely lots of prayers. Our prayers went unanswered and we sobbed harder the second time we took it down, unused.
We debated when to set it up for the third time but decided to do it before we were pregnant, as a reminder of what should have been (like we needed reminders) It was our furniture of hope. The rocking chair became just another every day chair, used by anyone who came to visit. It did not know the sweet nursings of a newborn at 2am. All it knew were the sobs of a heartbroken mother up all night longing for her babies. I wondered if it would ever be used for the purpose it was given us to. I clung to that chair with hope that yes, this time it would be used for that purpose, to nurse my sweet newborn instead of holding me sobbing. I clung to the crib praying it would get to be used by someone other then the cat, by our miracle baby.
Of course we all know that the rocking chair and crib has been used and a lot at that for the purpose that they were given to us, but it's 3 years, 2 deaths and 1 hell of a journey later that they still stand. They are bruised with dust but now they hold life. They hold my life.
As sad as I am at times and as much as I remember everything about the boys, I am very present in the moment. I appreciate Phoebe in every sense that she is. I wonder if I had not lost the boys if I would appreciate them all as much. If I would have as much patience for them as I do Bee. I see so many parents who have not experienced loss and even some who have that simply do not appreciate their children. They do not live in the moment for their children. If the last 6 months has taught me anything, it's the time flies by at a rather quick rate. If the boys deaths have taught me anything (which I have learned a lot) it's that life is not guaranteed and I cannot take it for granted. So even on the hard days, I look to my life, I look deep into her eyes and see the reason I live, see the reason I breathe, see the reason I get out of bed even on the sad days and make it through. Phoebe does not deserve to always have a grieving, sad mother. She deserves the world and I have every intention of giving it to her. So on days I am sad all I have to do is sit in my chair of hope, rocking my life and know that yes, one day perhaps I will feel bliss and joy again because everyday Phoebe is in my life is a blessing and she truly brings me so much joy. I just pray that one day the sadness stops aching so much, I pray it dulls and lets the joy take over in my life.
I know there will always be bittersweet moments but I pray that someday they are more sweet than they are bitter. I know flashbacks may continue as I become more aware of my feelings and thoughts and deal with everything. I know eventually medication may be of use to me but I rather get stabbed with a bunch of needles firs to see if that can help me (and for anyone who knows me, you know how much I HATE needles so if I'm willing to try acupuncture, you know it must have a good reputation) I know for the time being I live in the moment. I don't want to miss a day of Phoebe growing up and I feel after all we've been through, I should have the opportunity not too.
So for the days that are hard and sad, I live for my daughter, I live because I have a daughter and she needs her mommy. I appreciate her so much in every sense that she is. For the days I am over my head in anxiety to the point of puking and uncontrollably crying, I will push myself for my daughter because my daughter deserves to have a life besides her grieving mother. It's not easy and as everyone keeps telling me, it does get better, so I have to hold on to that. I have to hold onto my writing for me, to help me clear my mind and get all my thoughts out so I can work through things, to encourage others going through the same thing, to let them know they are not alone. I will not hide my PTSD or GAD in shame. I will not let mental health become a taboo subject like infant loss is. I will share my journey, the ups and the downs and even though at this moment they all seem down, it's going to be epic when I have an up, I'm going to scream it from the rooftops!
But for now, I am going to be a mother as I hear my daughter crying. For now she needs her mommy to rock her back to sleep, in that chair, that chair we've had so many hopes and dreams for for so long, I'm going to go rock in the chair, holding my sweet baby, comforting her, letting her know it's okay, letting her feel safe and comfortable in my arms because not only does she need that, I need it too.
I made a video awhile back for all my babies but I have been very hesitant to share it. I debated for some time whether or not to share it because I'm very protective over Ty and Jacob's pictures. I figured it would only help those in my situation if I posted this, lessen the taboo of the infant loss subject . Please know there are pictures of my stillborn son Ty, if this will bother you, don't watch the video. It's that simple. Please be gentle with your words, after all, all of these babies are my children whom were deeply wanted, loved and cared for.
So today was a bit of a disaster. Stephen left for Toronto due to work and all morning I prepared like Bee and I were going to go to the Y. Around 10 I became partially comatose in the sense that everything I was feeling stopped and I was left with just doing (if that makes any sense) I told Bee and myself over and over that we were going to do this. We were going to face our fear because it's going to have to happen sooner or later. I got her ready, I got myself ready, I threw up and we were on our way. We drive in silence, we parked in silence. I sat for a minute in the car thinking if I could take the next step and I did. I got Bee out of her seat, got all my stuff ready and we walked in the doors.
The lady running the study was there and I talked to her for a few minutes because she could tell I was having a very hard time. I proceeded to walk over to the child minding room and handed Bee over to a man (which I have strong issues with that, but I'll save that for another day) I signed her in and I left. I began to cry as I walked to the change room, she wasn't crying as I left but I could tell she had no idea what was going on. I locked my stuff in the locker, cried some more, walked up stairs and sobbed as I got my step for exercise class. Thankfully, I think most of the moms understood my anxiety.
Then class started. I swear I could hear Bee crying even though we were upstairs and she was downstairs, I just had a feeling. I exercised but kept an eye on my phone (they call you if they need you to come down) I cried and felt horrible but I was exercising. I contemplated going to check on her but decided if she needed me they would call. I exercised for 20 minutes and my phone lite up. It said YMCA, my heart sank. My poor little girl was NOT okay. I answered the phone and could hear my poor sweet little lady screaming in the background, they barely got a word in before I said, I'm on my way. Cue the incredible horrible amount of guilt. I felt like the biggest piece of ass shit ever. I knew this would happen, why did I put my little girl in this situation? I'm a horrible mother for doing this. I ran down the stairs as fast I could out the door and right to the room. A lady, of whom I did not see when I dropped Bee of, was holding my screaming little girl. I grabbed her immediately and the lady happily obliged. I sobbed to Bee that I was so sorry. I was SO sorry and I would NEVER do that again! We gathered our things and headed home.
Little miss passed out the minute we got in the car and when she woke up we had lots of extra snuggles as I felt like a piece of shit. I still feel like a piece of shit. I will never leave her again. If Stephen cannot watch her, I simply will not go. I can't do that to her again. I can't do that to myself again.
Oh and did I mention that I didn't need to show any ID or anything to pick her up? I had not seen that lady when I dropped her off, she didn't know if I was really Bee's mom or not, nothing identified me as being her mom. I could have been some random walking by, stepped in and took my little girl. I have MAJOR issues with this. There is no protection from kid napping so Bee will never go back. She will never go back for many reasons.
I know one day I will have to leave her, perhaps sooner then we planned (a blog for another day, one I am dreading) but for right now, she is my world, my everything and I am the same to her so I will never put her in a situation where she gets that upset again and I will never put myself in a situation where I get that upset again.
Some may see this as a step forward that I actually was able to go and proceed with the plan, but I see this as a step back because now I'm not willing to leave her with anyone (besides GG or Daddy) I really wish it wasn't this hard sometimes.....
They run my life now. The fear and anxiety I have had lately has been of massively epic proportions, so much so that there are things I simply cannot bring myself to do out of fear. It is eating away at my soul. Every inch of my being is laced with fear. Every thought I have goes there, it goes to the dark place of what "could" happen and it's always that Phoebe gets hurt or dies.
I know life is not guaranteed but there is a lot I can do to protect her. There are things and situations I have control over that can protect her and when it comes time to push myself to let go a little, I cave. I fall back 100 steps. My heart starts to palpitate, I start to get sick to my stomach. I can feel the tension in my head start to rise. I start to gasp for air. I feel faint, dizzy, out of it. Every inch of my being is consumed with fear. Fear that something will happen to my little girl.
Here's an example. I joined a research study for new moms that involves me attending the YMCA to get fit. Great idea, I was stoked to get accepted into the program and even more stoked that I have a free 3 month YMCA pass. We've already taken Phoebe swimming and plan to use it as much as we can, within limits. Sounds great right? I thought so to until tonight. My babysitter, aka, Daddy was all set to watch her tomorrow so I could go to class but now he will be out of town and I have to make an extremely hard decision. I do NOT feel comfortable leaving Bee in the child minding room, which is an option for most and most have no problem but me, no I'm different. My mind goes there. Your probably wondering what on earth could I possibly be so terrified of. Well let me enlighten you.
1. She will get hurt. It's a tiny child minding room that will be filled with about 10 other infants and probably about 10 rambunctious small children running all over, you see where I'm going with this? If they place Bee on the floor and a rambunctious small child is running around being rambunctious and not paying attention, Bee gets stepped on and gets hurt.
2. She will not get the attention she needs (if you do not know my baby, she is high needs) She will cry and cry because no one is giving her the attention she needs due to the fact that there are 10 other infants that have to be taken care of as well. She'll cry so much and so hard that she will choke on her saliva and die.
3. If something happens or she needs me, they won't be able to find me in time.
4. This one is my biggest issue. The Y I will be attending is also a community center so anyone from the community can walk right in. The child minding room is not hidden, it's right there when you walk in. Bee will not be protected shall anyone from the community decide to walk right in and harm the children (don't think Newtown Connecticut isn't n my mind and yes I know I live in Canada but shit happens here too) Anyone can freely walk in and my poor little lady has no line of defense (I've heard the other Y I can use, you have to scan your card to get in so she would be protected there)
5. Someone can take her. Yup, they can just walk right in, sign her out and take her. Given the people child minding have no idea who I am, I was told they do not ask to see ID so whose to stop any random person from trying to take her? I surely do hope I was misinformed and they have some kind of id check. If not I am going to require it for her.
6. She has severe separation anxiety to the point she almost stops breathing if I'm gone too long (with the exception of being with her Daddy or GG and usually only at home) I don't want her to be scared. I don't want her to feel like I abandoned her. I want her to know I'm here for her and always will be. I don't want her that upset, it breaks my heart. It makes me worry that even if and that's a HUGE IF, if I attempt it, I'll probably be called 10 minutes later because she won't settle down.
7. Did I mention someone could take her, she could get hurt or she could even die?
Now, I know those situations are unlikely to happen, but you and I both know they "could" happen. I'm sure tomorrow IF I go either one of two things will happen.
1. Things go fine, she is okay in childcare and I go work out (while puking my guts up with fear)
2. She cries and cries and cries, they come get me 10 minutes later and I get no workout in.
I really wish my mind could go to the last two situations. I wish I didn't know the negative, I wish my mind never went there but it's my life. I've been through hell twice, tragedy has struck twice and I know it could happen again at any moment so I do what I can to protect my daughter and leaving her tomorrow just does not seem like a good thing to do. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow, perhaps we will get in the car, drive all the way there and turn around. Perhaps we may even make it inside the door, maybe I'll even make it upstairs to workout, maybe we will both survive. But right now, today, I do not feel it will work out. I do not feel comfortable leaving my life with someone else. Yes it will happen someday, but when she is older and can fend for herself more.
Right now I am only comfortable with having her at home in the care of others. I'm even still just working on that!
My anxiety is at an all time high the last few weeks, so many firsts for both of us and there's only so much I can handle. I don't know if I can do it tomorrow, only time will tell. I wish it was as simple for me as the other moms who just leisurely drop their kids off, send them to a bunch of different activities, sign them up for all these programs, I wish I could do it with ease but I can't. I can't risk it for my little girl, not yet. She is my life, she is the reason I breathe. If anything happened to her I could not go on.
I'm sure some will read this and think really? She's anxious about that and really, those situations are rare. Why yes I know they are, but when you've already been a statistic and have been through a situation that has NEVER happened in time before, your eyes are open to the rare situations. Your heart becomes so vulnerable. Your mind goes there all the time, especially when everything is still fresh. I can only pray that one day, with time, it will ease. I will be able to do things without a second thought, without fear that she is always going to die but for today, I will hold her close and protect her because she needs that and so do I.
There are many days I wonder why I do it, why do I write this blog? What is it's purpose. For me personally, it is a place to get out all my thoughts and emotions so they have some sort of clear direction and stop being such a jumbled mess in my head. Truthfully, I always feel better after I write, no matter how hard some of the topics are, I always feel better getting it out. I never use to write, I found it boring and mundane but after Ty died I just had to. I had to figure a way to get out everything that was in me and on my mind. I had to sort through it all and writing it down became my escape.
I guess I also wanted to reach out to others who have walked my path, to let other mothers know my struggles. I wanted other women to know they aren't alone, the thoughts and feelings they have are pretty "normal" for us grieving moms. I wanted to let them see that there is always hope, I wanted them to see that, yeah it's hard, it sucks, I hate it but there are ways to get through it.
Then I woke up this morning and in my haste that is the morning, glasses still off so my vision was blurry, staring down at my smiley little girl who decided she wanted some more food, I received an e-mail. I really have no idea who reads my blog, I don't think many people do (maybe I'll take a roll call sometime just for fun) but I have no idea who reads this blog or where they are from or what path they are walking in life, I really write mainly for me and in case other women need to feel that they are not alone, I do it for them. I do it to show hope and I guess I do a good job at that because this is the email I received (name removed for privacy reasons) I just had to share it. It means so much to me to receive an email like this, it has given me such a warm feeling.
I have lived in London, Ontario for the past three years. I discovered the Woodland Cemetery with the deer, shortly after we moved here. I often go there to watch the deer, and either walk or drive through the peaceful grounds. I often see the same headstones over and over, and wonder about the people buried there. Only a couple of weeks ago, my parents (who were visiting London) and I noticed the ones for Ty and Jacob. We had gone to look at the new fawns again at the cemetery, and were driving slowly past the children's section when my mom asked me to stop. She pointed out the matching headstones and as we read the names, I was overcome with heartache for whoever had to bury two baby sons. I noticed how lovingly the area was tended, with little teddy bears and an angel statue. We left, but I kept thinking about the family who had known such sorrow.
Tonight when my girls asked to go for a drive through the cemetery to look for the deer, I again stopped at the graves and copied down the names. I had been thinking for the past two weeks about these little angels, and their parents. I hoped beyond hope that somehow these parents might have now been blessed with a living child to finally know the joys of parenthood. I just had to know more.
I came home and looked up whatever information I could find, until I came across your blog. I didn't notice the entries for 'Bee' at first. I read about Ty first and then Jacob. I felt a lump in my throat and the tears begin as I read about your excitement and then your fears and sorrow...twice. I marveled at your strength and courage. I appreciated you being so candid about your feelings for something that must have torn you apart. I felt a deep respect for your husband and his kind and supportive manner through all of these trials. I was sitting and thinking about all I had read and seen, and felt such an admiration for your family.
I then noticed the two links to click on for Bee. I was almost terrified, wondering if you had yet another sorrow to add to the burdens you had already faced. I finally clicked and saw the sweetest little face, and your happy entry about her. My tears of sadness turned to tears of joy when I read about your latest adventures of being able to leave the house, and each victory you achieve in being able to overcome the grief and trauma that has held you prisoner.
Thank you for sharing your story, so that others may appreciate life more fully. Thank you for giving us a glimpse into your struggles and strengths. You are an inspiration. Thank you for reaching out to others who may have lost little ones, or helping those who haven't suffered such a loss, understand a little more what parents go through in such a situation.
I hope and pray that you will continue to find healing in being a mother to your beautiful little girl. I truly believe you will be reunited with your angel sons again someday, and that now they are very near, watching over your family. I know that you have a support network of people who love you and help you through the dark times that inevitably come as part of life and its challenges and disappointments. Also know that as more people come across your story, they will also be touched by knowing about you, and offer their support and positive thoughts for you and your loved ones.
Thank you again for sharing your bittersweet story. You are a remarkable lady - never forget that.
That folks is why I do it. I just never knew my words could leave such an impact on others, I know it helps me immensely but thank you to the wonderful lady who took the time to not only look up my boys and read about them but to contact me and let me know how I have impacted her. You have touched my heart in a place that has not been touched in a while. Your email means so much to me, words really cannot describe how this has effected me in a very good way.