We went for a walk as a family last night. Beautiful summer evening with our son holding on to each of our hands swinging back and forth then letting go, running ahead and then runnig back. 12 geese flew over us and my son was so excited about the "honkers". I couldn't help myself. I just started crying. It wasn't the geese, or my son being cute....it was that all I could think was that we should be walking as a family of four. Our daughter should have been in a stroller and we should have been glowing with love and fulfillment and instead I am postpartum and frumpy with tears streaming down my face as we pass our neighbors walking their dogs and they have never acknowledged that our daughter died. They pretend nothing happened which is excruciating. I just walk on missing my daughter and the life I was supposed to be living.
Tonight we met up with some friends for dinner. I haven't seen the man since Camille died. He gave me a kiss and hug but Camille was never mentioned, no "I'm so sorry your baby died" nothing...silence. Like I was never pregnant, like I didn't just give birth to a dead baby, like none of it ever happened. It is excruciating how silent people are. It hurts me SO much. We went downtown to the farmers market and the national championship poll vaulting competition. We were having a good time. My son at 2.5 has decided he wants to be a poll vaulter. Everything was going well. Until we decided to actually walk through the farmers market. Every other woman was either pregnant or had a tiny baby is a sling or stroller. FUCK seriously?...I didn't expect to start crying and I just couldn't stop. My husband says as we are leaving "what set you off" and I told him about all the babies and he said..."you have a baby" I said "he is not a baby and it's different"...He should know better. Seems like people either say nothing or the wrong thing....Everyone gets a giant FAIL! Fuck you EVERYONE I hate you all!
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.
Those silent neighbours, I remember those. It took me a good six months before I could walk a certain way through our neighbourhood again as I just couldn't stand to see any of those people when I knew they would either say a) nothing or b) the wrong thing. I needed to be stronger.
ReplyDeleteOh Renel. It is so raw and devastatingly fresh for you still. My heart seizes up just reading this and I know there is nothing I can really say to take any of this pain away.
Glad you've found this community though. There is a lot of love and support out here for you.
xo
I am so sorry Renel. I know I found the silence very painful. It used to make me feel as though I had made my daughter up as nobody ever mentioned her.
ReplyDeleteI wish Camille had been with you on that walk. I love your son's description of the geese as 'honkers.' Oh my. Sometimes I feel it is those 'beautiful summer evening' type times that hurt the most, when I just wish, wish that all the members of my family were there. All five of us. Including the one that nobody else ever seems to mention. Sigh.
I had the experience of silence many times, but one that was the most awkward was at a friend's 30th bday party, where there were many mutual friends there who had last seen me very pregnant and expecting TWO. And they only ever said, "How's your daughter?" clearly proving they knew I had lost my son. One just said, "Hey how's it going?" and then said nothing about ANYTHING. I felt like I was losing my mind. My husband didn't understand my fury and just said, "Well he didn't know what to say so he said nothing." And I'm like, "Why the hell did he even bother coming over to talk to us then?!" I mean this guy literally just stood there and made ME make small talk with him, as if I hadn't just been pregnant and suffered a loss or had a newborn at home either. People really do SUCK. This new normal is hard enough without people being jerks. xo
ReplyDeleteFarmers markets, street fairs, movie theaters.. pregnant women are everywhere! I don't go out much, but I see them all. of. the. time. That anger and sadness just builds up inside of you and what can you do but cry? Let those tears flow.. I find it to be healing, actually. It feels good to get them out.
ReplyDeleteA lot of my friends are the same as yours - they don't say anything about my son. They're afraid they'll hurt me, they're afraid they'll make me cry, they don't know how I'll react, so they say nothing. Sometimes I want to talk about Aidan with them, but I am a people pleaser and don't like making situations uncomfortable. so I say nothing too :-/
My husband also doesn't always "get it." He is healing differently than I and he views our son's death differently. As frustrating as it is, I find it's best if I just sit him down and explain exactly why I got upset at this or why I need to do that to make me feel better. He tries to understand, but I know he won't always get it.
Thinking of you and your precious Camille.
It seems to compound the grief even more when stupid people don't say anything. There are some who have still said nothing after 8 months and it's infuriating! Fuck them is right!
ReplyDeleteI dont' go out much, or socialise much these days purely to avoid others avoiding me. Weird and unproductive I'm sure, but it's what works for me right now.
I hope the writing is helping in some way Renel. Your words here are so powerful, raw and true. I just wish Camille was here and you weren't feeling any of this. Much love. xo
I have a neighbour who saw me waddling about, just about to pop. She gave advice about buggies in the elevator and wished me luck. I've seen her since, but she avoids my eyes, looks down or busies herself with something else. It makes me feel like a disease.
ReplyDeleteA simple acknowledgement is all it would take. I certainly don't expect people to understand or to feel comfortable trying to deal with me, but ignoring my son is just so brutal... I think it's just about the worst thing people can do. I don't need pretty words, or to be fixed, or a suggestion of how I should be healing. Just an acknowledgement - you had a baby, who died, it's a fucking awful thing. That's enough.