The other day I saw one of my friends when we went out to get a bagel. She was the woman who watched my son while I was in the hospital giving birth to Camille. She told me about another mom who sent their condolences when they found out about my daughters death. She said people were asking how I was doing and she told them that I was "doing about as good as you can imagine". She said I think you are doing good. I said really? I don't think so ...I feel like total shit. Another couple of my friends said they thought I was doing good or rather not good but better than they expected. I don't know what people's idea of good is. I mean if I go out to get a bagel and I loose my shit while sitting there with my family which actually happened after my friend left that day or if I get through an outing shopping without crying, is one considered better than the other? I am not laying in bed all day. Is that doing good? I am surviving. I cry at home, mostly at night into the early a.m hours between 11pm and 3 a.m. I am not even close to good, I am HORRIBLE. I am surviving. I am taking breaths each day and putting one foot in front of the other...but I am not doing good. I drove for the first time after 6 weeks...I guess that is something...neither good or bad, just trying to get back into the world of the living. I am on anti depressants for the first time in my life...How can I be doing good? Is it defined by not drinking myself into an oblivion or managing to have conversations without crying...never mind that I am not paying attention to anything that is coming out of the other persons mouth and that I am one gulp and swallow away from sobbing all the time. Ya- I'm great!
Did I happen to mention that I cry EVERY time I go to the bagel shop~ Certain places are just a huge triggers. I wear my sunglasses into stores because I am always crying, even if it is for a brief period of time. I guess I feel like I am not doing particularly good, but other people do. This concerns me because I want people to understand that I am not better. I am still desperate about it. Going to the park and seeing tiny blond baby girls is painful. I will continue to be sad and I don't want people to forget.
Please DON'T FORGET. My baby is dead. My daughter is dead. Forever... Forever...I am not good...my baby daughter is dead.
About Me
- Renel
- My second child and our first daughter, Camille, died and was born on June, 30 2011 when I was full term at 38 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to my rainbow baby, a second daughter, on August 31, 2012. This is me trying to figure out how to be a mother to my living son and daughter and function in society after our tragic loss.
I know this feeling too, sweetheart. Four months later. People say they are amazed at how well I am taking this. Just because I don't break down in front of people all the time does not mean I am okay. I am not okay. I am not fine. I am not better. I am screaming and dying inside. Well I died inside already. But I feel like I die over and over again every day that I have to wake up without my son. I hate when people ask how I am. I dread small talk. All I am saying is I feel ya sister. I will continue to follow your blog and love and remember Camille with you.
ReplyDeleteI always say that I have two options:
ReplyDeleteLive, or die. And by living, I mean breathing and expressing movement. Because I'm pretty sure part of me died. But I can either keep breathing or kill myself. And that's not an option. Just like the latest GLOW post, "I don't want to kill myself, I just want to stop living."
But really, where is the unit of measurement? How do you expect us to act when our babies DIED? It's not okay and it's immeasurable.
It's tough when people say " your so strong, I couldnt do it" I want to say no I'm not strong and I can't do this!!! But I guess the reality is we are doing it and women before us have done it and my hope for us we can do it! I'm imagining our girls together smiling down on us cause we have found eachother and will help eachother through this!
ReplyDeleteHave hope! Love you, go easy on your heart!
Ugh, this was one of the things that really bugged me in the early days (and to a certain extent, still does). I was so defensive of my grief and my hurt and I hated people saying I looked like I was doing good, and that I was amazing blah blah blah. I felt like the walking dead. And as B says, it was a sink or swim situation. What else could I do but keep functioning? I did want to die, but I didn't want to kill myself so I just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and when I did, and happened to encounter other human beings along the way, I had to fake how "well" I was doing otherwise I might have started crying and simply never, ever stopped.
ReplyDeletexo
Surviving is the word that sums it up for me. I'm not better- the only way that would happen is if my son came back. When people ask me how I am my answer is always- ok. Not good or better or fine which is probably what they want to hear. I'm ok- I'm alive and breathing and my family is healthy so that makes me ok. But my son is gone forever and that means I'll always just be surviving without him.
ReplyDeletePeople have no idea. In their minds- a month, 2 months ok fine grieve a much as you want. But now come on, you're pushing 4-5 months (this was actually said to me)- you should be better by now. Ummmmm yeah whatever. There is no amount of time that will make me "better" and people just have to deal with that. All I can promise is that I'll continue to survive.
Thinking of you and your little Camille......xoxo
I HATE that! It's the mask we wear everyday. We have to keep funtioning, especially when there is another little one/s around to look after. But just because we do, doesn't mean we're better. One friend of mine kept telling me in the first couple of months that I'd be feeling 'better' after the funeral, 'better' after the 3 month mark, 'better' after six months. I felt like punching her. It's never going to be 'better'. We learn to live around it and hopefully intergrate our babies into our lives and families as our other children are. But, they will always be missing and our hearts will always be broken for them. x Camille x
ReplyDeleteI think that people mean it as a compliment and to express that they are happy we haven't offed ourselves, happy that we aren't in psych wards, etc. It's a way for them to "relax" and stop worrying about us so much, and you know what? Fine. Because if we tell them we're doing horribly, what good will it do? They can't bring our babies back, they can't fix anything, so there's no point in making other people worry endlessly. That's my take on it anyhow. I think it's totally normal though that when we get this "compliment" from others we take offense. I know I still do, 9 months later.
ReplyDelete