My Dear Friends,
I'll be the first to admit, that it's hard for me to juggle my constant chronic pain, and two kids. It's been years since I've worked on this blog, and even though I often think about it, finding the time is hard. I'm home now, full-time, raising my two little girls. Sophie just turned 8 on the weekend, and Gabs turned 4 in February. Life is very busy with two rambunctious kids in the house. Freddie and I finally have the family that we had always dreamed of. But finding time for myself, for my own hobbies and interests, is almost nonexistent. I've made a bit of a mistake here, by throwing myself so wholeheartedly into my children and my family life, that I have lost myself. I keep telling myself that in September, when Gabs goes to JK, that I'll be able to rediscover who I am and what my interests are. But now with this coronavirus, I don't know what this new school year will look like.
Today is Wednesday April 1st, 2020. We have now been in self isolation for 2 and 1/2 weeks. This is the third week of self-isolation for us. The girls and I stay at home, completely by ourselves, while Freddie continues to go to work. The business that he is in is deemed to be an essential service, which means that he has to be at work. Sadly, he has had to lay off all of his employees, but he still has to work. I worry for him everyday, worried that he might pick up the virus and get it himself, or bring it home to us.
The last year or so, we have been helping take care of my elderly mother, who is exhibiting early signs of dementia. These are very early stages, and she's able to take care of herself for the most part, but we still drop off food for her on a daily basis. Now, with a virus on a rampage through our country, we simply drop off her meals on the porch, remind her to wipe down all the containers, and and have her bring them into the house. Neither I nor my girls, have been in contact with my mom for over three weeks. We visit her by standing on the sidewalk and talking from a distance.
The girls get along for the most part. But let's be honest, it's far too hard for Gabs to have her sister here full time. Gabs is used to having her own space, her own schedule and now her older sister is here full time. We try to have some semblance of a schedule, but it's not easy. They love each other and get along, but within the next 5 minutes are each other's throats, and yelling, screaming, fighting. We're trying to get out every day for a couple of hours so they can get their energy out. But it's eery being out on the street, and not seeing anybody.
I don't sleep well at night. I crawl into bed and then I toss and turn for hours. I worry about Freddie's business and whether it will be able to survive? I worry whether the initial investment we put into it, whether that will also be devoured by the virus? I worry about my girls and how they're handling all of this? I worry about Sophie missing her First Holy Communion this year. I worry that one of us, or someone close to us, may become sick... and I'm absolutely terrified of what might happen should Freddie and I both be ill with the coronavirus. What will happen to our girls then? Who will take care of them? Do we keep them in the house, exposed to the virus? Or do we try to have a distant relative take them so that they will be safe? Will anyone even want to take them into their home, if they may have been exposed to the virus? So much worry going on right now. It's hard to keep a level head. I've never been in this position before, and if you had told me about this even a few months ago, I would have never believed it. But here we are... I'm scared, and I'm worried. But during the day, I put on a brave face as we colour, paint, and do ballet over the internet. I don't want my children to worry about the true gravity of the situation. We're honest with them about everything, but we keep stressing how even IF we did get sick we would survive, but honestly, young people in their thirties and forties are dying. It's rare, but it happens. And that leaves me completely scared...
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
CORONAVIRUS FB post
Taken from a FB post....
Gas prices at a record low (between $0.60-$0.72/litre). = crashing economy
Self-distancing measures on a rise.
Tape on the floors at grocery stores and others to help distance shoppers 2m (6ft) from each other.
Limited number of people inside stores, therefore lineups outside the store doors.
Non-essential stores and businesses mandated closed.
Parks, trails, entire cities locked up.
Entire sports seasons cancelled.
Concerts, tours, festivals, entertainment events - cancelled.
Weddings, family celebrations, holiday gatherings - cancelled.
No masses, churches are closed.
Schools are all closed.
No gatherings of 50 or more, then 20 or more, now 5 or more.
No more than 10 people at funerals
Don't socialize with anyone outside of your home.
We are to distance from each other.
Shortage of masks, gowns, gloves for our front-line workers.
Shortage of respirators for the critically ill.
Panic buying sets in and we have no toilet paper, no disinfecting supplies, no paper towel, no hand sanitizer.
Shelves are bare.
Manufacturers, distilleries and other businesses switch their lines to help make visors, masks, hand sanitizer and PPE.
Government closes the border to all non essential travel, calls Canadians home and makes it mandatory to self isolate for 14 days.
Fines are established for breaking the rules.
Ford sets fines for those price-gauging others.
Womens rights ripped away during birth! Restrictions at Hospitals, birthscenters and homebirths! Limited for birth supports including at home, at home no water births, only 1 support and no children allowed at home, at hospital you are asked a billion questions before being allowed any support and can't have support in triage at all only if in active labour.
No support during inductions unless mother is deemed in active labour sometimes that is not till 9cm, women isolated from supports, Limited pain medications options, NO support people allowed in Csections at all (meaning no dads allowed) .1 support (if approved) is allowed in the birthing room only and not permitted to leave at all for any reasons if they leave they cannot come back.
Stadiums and recreation facilities open up for the overflow of Covid-19 patients.
Press conferences daily from both Prime Minister Trudeau and Premier Ford.
Government incentives to stay home.
Barely anyone in the street or on the roads.
People wearing masks and gloves outside.
Essential service workers are terrified to go to work.
Medical field workers are afraid to go home to their families.
1,000,000 applications for Employment Insurance as people go without work.
They say it started in Wuhan, China at a seafood market (wet market). Hundreds of thousands affected, dead, dying, critically ill.
Many recovered.
This is the Novel Coronavirus (Covid-19) Pandemic, declared March 11th, 2020.
Why, you ask, do I write this status?
One day it will show up in my memory feed, and it will be a yearly reminder that life is precious. To not take the things we dearly love for granted.
We have so much!
Be thankful. Be grateful.
Be kind to each other - love one another - support everyone.
We are all one! ❤️
Gas prices at a record low (between $0.60-$0.72/litre). = crashing economy
Self-distancing measures on a rise.
Tape on the floors at grocery stores and others to help distance shoppers 2m (6ft) from each other.
Limited number of people inside stores, therefore lineups outside the store doors.
Non-essential stores and businesses mandated closed.
Parks, trails, entire cities locked up.
Entire sports seasons cancelled.
Concerts, tours, festivals, entertainment events - cancelled.
Weddings, family celebrations, holiday gatherings - cancelled.
No masses, churches are closed.
Schools are all closed.
No gatherings of 50 or more, then 20 or more, now 5 or more.
No more than 10 people at funerals
Don't socialize with anyone outside of your home.
We are to distance from each other.
Shortage of masks, gowns, gloves for our front-line workers.
Shortage of respirators for the critically ill.
Panic buying sets in and we have no toilet paper, no disinfecting supplies, no paper towel, no hand sanitizer.
Shelves are bare.
Manufacturers, distilleries and other businesses switch their lines to help make visors, masks, hand sanitizer and PPE.
Government closes the border to all non essential travel, calls Canadians home and makes it mandatory to self isolate for 14 days.
Fines are established for breaking the rules.
Ford sets fines for those price-gauging others.
Womens rights ripped away during birth! Restrictions at Hospitals, birthscenters and homebirths! Limited for birth supports including at home, at home no water births, only 1 support and no children allowed at home, at hospital you are asked a billion questions before being allowed any support and can't have support in triage at all only if in active labour.
No support during inductions unless mother is deemed in active labour sometimes that is not till 9cm, women isolated from supports, Limited pain medications options, NO support people allowed in Csections at all (meaning no dads allowed) .1 support (if approved) is allowed in the birthing room only and not permitted to leave at all for any reasons if they leave they cannot come back.
Stadiums and recreation facilities open up for the overflow of Covid-19 patients.
Press conferences daily from both Prime Minister Trudeau and Premier Ford.
Government incentives to stay home.
Barely anyone in the street or on the roads.
People wearing masks and gloves outside.
Essential service workers are terrified to go to work.
Medical field workers are afraid to go home to their families.
1,000,000 applications for Employment Insurance as people go without work.
They say it started in Wuhan, China at a seafood market (wet market). Hundreds of thousands affected, dead, dying, critically ill.
Many recovered.
This is the Novel Coronavirus (Covid-19) Pandemic, declared March 11th, 2020.
Why, you ask, do I write this status?
One day it will show up in my memory feed, and it will be a yearly reminder that life is precious. To not take the things we dearly love for granted.
We have so much!
Be thankful. Be grateful.
Be kind to each other - love one another - support everyone.
We are all one! ❤️
Thursday, October 20, 2016
A HAPPY update for once!
My Dear Friends,
It has been so long since I've written that I'm almost ashamed of the absence. But this space serves not only to connect me to others, but this serves as a form of online diary for me as well. So in the spirit of updating, let me start.
Back in February, after a quick 2 hour labour, I delivered a perfectly healthy little girl at home. I hadn't made a big deal about announcing our pregnancy, because being our 11th baby, I wasn't entirely sure that we would be blessed with a happy ending. Its only near the end of the second trimester that I started believing that we would have a baby to bring home. Early on when we had the anatomy scan, I held my breath tightly, waiting for the results, only to find out that we had a perfect baby. Gabs is now 8 months old and an active little girl. She crawls and is on the brink of walking. Gabs is enamored with Sophie, watching her big sister's every move!
Sophie has entered Junior Kindergarten and is loving it. We had started out with half days, as I didn't want her to feel pushed out of the house with a new baby, but she lasted a month at half days before she announced that she wanted to stay for the afternoon as well. She has made some wonderful friends there, including her new best friend M. We've already had a playdate with M and her mom which went really well. The girls enjoy each other and have survived their first 'incident' - M decided to bite Sophie, claiming she was hungry! Kids say the darndest things, don't they?
I hate to even admit this last part, but my pregnancy, labour and delivery went so well, that from the moment that Gabs appeared, I wanted to do it again. At first I thought it was hormones, but as time has gone by, my desire for another child has not subsided. At first I had this overwhelming feeling that there was one more baby coming our way, that it was destined, but now I'm not so sure. Freddie and I have talked at length about it and we both agree that it isn't 'smart' for us to pursue this option. Freddie feels that two children is enough for our finances, time availability and sanity, and we both agree that with our history of losses, especially with the genetic issues that we had with Asia and our advanced ages [we are both 42 this year] trying for another baby isn't the right option. I explained that I wasn't thinking of actively pursing another pregnancy - I wasn't planning on going back to the fertility clinic and doing monitoring...I was simply thinking of not preventing. But Freddie is right, the risk of another loss or a baby with a terminal diagnosis, in our case, is rather high and a big risk to take. So I'm dealing with the loss of our future - it hurts my heart to know that out of 11 pregnancies, we have only 2 children earthside. And now, we are done...and that feels like another form of a loss.
It has been so long since I've written that I'm almost ashamed of the absence. But this space serves not only to connect me to others, but this serves as a form of online diary for me as well. So in the spirit of updating, let me start.
Back in February, after a quick 2 hour labour, I delivered a perfectly healthy little girl at home. I hadn't made a big deal about announcing our pregnancy, because being our 11th baby, I wasn't entirely sure that we would be blessed with a happy ending. Its only near the end of the second trimester that I started believing that we would have a baby to bring home. Early on when we had the anatomy scan, I held my breath tightly, waiting for the results, only to find out that we had a perfect baby. Gabs is now 8 months old and an active little girl. She crawls and is on the brink of walking. Gabs is enamored with Sophie, watching her big sister's every move!
Sophie has entered Junior Kindergarten and is loving it. We had started out with half days, as I didn't want her to feel pushed out of the house with a new baby, but she lasted a month at half days before she announced that she wanted to stay for the afternoon as well. She has made some wonderful friends there, including her new best friend M. We've already had a playdate with M and her mom which went really well. The girls enjoy each other and have survived their first 'incident' - M decided to bite Sophie, claiming she was hungry! Kids say the darndest things, don't they?
I hate to even admit this last part, but my pregnancy, labour and delivery went so well, that from the moment that Gabs appeared, I wanted to do it again. At first I thought it was hormones, but as time has gone by, my desire for another child has not subsided. At first I had this overwhelming feeling that there was one more baby coming our way, that it was destined, but now I'm not so sure. Freddie and I have talked at length about it and we both agree that it isn't 'smart' for us to pursue this option. Freddie feels that two children is enough for our finances, time availability and sanity, and we both agree that with our history of losses, especially with the genetic issues that we had with Asia and our advanced ages [we are both 42 this year] trying for another baby isn't the right option. I explained that I wasn't thinking of actively pursing another pregnancy - I wasn't planning on going back to the fertility clinic and doing monitoring...I was simply thinking of not preventing. But Freddie is right, the risk of another loss or a baby with a terminal diagnosis, in our case, is rather high and a big risk to take. So I'm dealing with the loss of our future - it hurts my heart to know that out of 11 pregnancies, we have only 2 children earthside. And now, we are done...and that feels like another form of a loss.
Friday, May 1, 2015
A complete parenting FAIL!
It's no secret that I'm having a tough time. I'm angry. I'm sad. I'm defeated. I react poorly to most situations and it just make it worse. Sophie is now 3 years old and 1 month. She has recently discovered that she doesn't HAVE to do what I ask her to do. She is enjoying this new-found freedom, but becoming defiant in the process. This is a very bad time for her to push my buttons and argue back and I'm clearly handling it poorly.
This morning, we were getting ready for the Waldorf Parent & Tot Program. Sophie eats SUPER slow and we were already late. The first meltdown was because I was using the wrong hairbrush to brush her hair - I'm talking instant screaming and tears. I hugged her and explained that the old brush was when she was a baby, but now she has more hair and requires a bigger brush. She calmed down very quickly. I walked her to the door and asked her to put her shoes on, while I ran to grab my cell phone, water, jackets, etc. I came back to the stairs and Sophie was still sitting there, staring at her shoes. By this point, I had asked her about ten times to put those shoes on and I was starting to get frustrated. I asked her again to put on her shoes and I grabbed her jacket. I put her one sleeve on and asked her to put her other sleeve on while I went to grab the car keys. When I returned, her shoes were still NOT on her feet and she had taken off her coat. My blood pressure was rising. I yelled at her, asking why she had taken her coat off and she started screaming that she needed her Kitty and Puppy, two stuffed animals that she takes everywhere. I explained that we were really late and we had to leave, suggesting that she take her Dolly, who was on the coffee table. Unfortunately, this would not do as she started screaming and throwing a tantrum as I tried to put her shoes on and her coat. I felt hot, I felt mad and all I wanted to do was get her in the car and leave. I grabbed her and marched her upstairs to get her Kitty and Puppy, while she screamed and was throwing herself on the floor. We got her 'pets' and finally got her buckled into the car seat. I was mad - mad at her, but more mad at myself for allowing myself to throw my own version of a tantrum by losing my temper and yelling at her. I can only imagine how scary I must have looked to my tiny 3 year old and then of course I couldn't help but think that of course we weren't blessed with another child, when I can't always handle the one I have!
Sophie was quiet in the car for the first time ever! I tried to explain to her why mommy was getting upset. A few days prior we had made a deal that mommy would yell less if Sophie would listen more, but we both failed today. By the time we were half way there, she was her old chatty self, while I was still trying to navigate the morning roads and avoid an accident as I rushed to get us there. Once at Waldorf, I apologized for yelling at her and she gave me a huge hug. I begged her to listen to mommy and the teacher during the class and she readily agreed with a hearty "I promise Mommy!" - sadly, I've heard this before and I believe that she doesn't actually understand what a promise is.
The rest of the morning was peppered with little instances of not listening and doing her own thing. Sophie would decide to open the classroom door and run down the hall on her own, even after I repeatedly told her to never leave the classroom without mommy. On the playground, my pleas that she not throw sand went unheeded again. I explained that not only could she hit someone with the sand, but she will also be dirty from head to toe, especially since last week she was very upset to have sand in her shoes - but that was ignored. I had to ask her many times to follow me to the car and in the end I had to walk her by the hand. Because of my chronic pain issues, I have a small stool in the car that she uses to get herself into the carseat so that I don't have to lift her. I took the stool out and set it up beside the door so she could sit down while I cleaned her shoes. Again, I tried to explain to her in a very calm manner why I had wanted her not to throw sand and she suddenly screamed at me "No Mommy", while trying to purse my lips to quiet me down. I felt my blood pressure boil as I calmly told her that we were no longer going to see daddy or to the store and that instead we were going straight home for lunch and nap.
We went down for a nap after lunch, while I prayed that we both woke up in a better mood. I knew that God didn't want me to behave this way, I knew that it was some other force who thrived on my misery, my self doubt, my anger and frustration and so I prayed for strength...
Sophie woke up all happy and jovial. We went to the bathroom to go potty and I asked her to get dressed, but she wanted to run around and kept ignoring me. I asked her if she had heard me ask her to get dressed and she said "No", even though I knew she had heard me. I told her that we needed to get dressed and she screamed at me "NO MOMMY, WE DON'T" and immediately slapped me in the face. I was stunned - she had never done this before. I reacted without thinking and told her that she is never to yell at mommy and then I slapped her hand because her hand was being bad. Yes, I fully realize that the logic there is faulty, telling a 3 year old not to hit while slapping her hand - but in the moment, all the Attachment Parenting/RIE tools that I had went out the window. Of course the rest of the night was full of more of these type of issues - dumping bird seed all over the garage floor, throwing her pogo dog on the floor at dinner time, etc.
I have to keep telling myself that this IS to be expected. She is a child, she is three. I am an adult, who is going through a heck of a lot right now and who temporarily can't get a hold of her emotions. I know that reasoning or explaining these concepts to her isn't working as she doesn't understand, so I think we will simply need to remove her from situations [like going straight home today] or take away items until she grasps the concept of consequences. As for me, I've talked to Freddie and we both agree that she is exercising her freedom and trying to get things her way and that it will be difficult for the next little while. But I know that it will pass - I remember similar issues after we lost Asia, where my personal reaction was totally inappropriate. Luckily, its the weekend and I'll have Freddie's support for the next two days so perhaps we can tag team her a little bit and I can try to deal with my emotions.
I've felt like a crap parent all day. I know I behaved poorly. Today, I doubted my abilities to parent Sophie properly - and it wasn't the first time. I was worried how I'll be able to handle future tantrums and if I can raise her to be a good person. Today, I felt the stares of other parents as I struggled with a toddler who wouldn't listen, but most of all, I struggled with myself. Clearly, not one of my finer parenting moments :-(
This morning, we were getting ready for the Waldorf Parent & Tot Program. Sophie eats SUPER slow and we were already late. The first meltdown was because I was using the wrong hairbrush to brush her hair - I'm talking instant screaming and tears. I hugged her and explained that the old brush was when she was a baby, but now she has more hair and requires a bigger brush. She calmed down very quickly. I walked her to the door and asked her to put her shoes on, while I ran to grab my cell phone, water, jackets, etc. I came back to the stairs and Sophie was still sitting there, staring at her shoes. By this point, I had asked her about ten times to put those shoes on and I was starting to get frustrated. I asked her again to put on her shoes and I grabbed her jacket. I put her one sleeve on and asked her to put her other sleeve on while I went to grab the car keys. When I returned, her shoes were still NOT on her feet and she had taken off her coat. My blood pressure was rising. I yelled at her, asking why she had taken her coat off and she started screaming that she needed her Kitty and Puppy, two stuffed animals that she takes everywhere. I explained that we were really late and we had to leave, suggesting that she take her Dolly, who was on the coffee table. Unfortunately, this would not do as she started screaming and throwing a tantrum as I tried to put her shoes on and her coat. I felt hot, I felt mad and all I wanted to do was get her in the car and leave. I grabbed her and marched her upstairs to get her Kitty and Puppy, while she screamed and was throwing herself on the floor. We got her 'pets' and finally got her buckled into the car seat. I was mad - mad at her, but more mad at myself for allowing myself to throw my own version of a tantrum by losing my temper and yelling at her. I can only imagine how scary I must have looked to my tiny 3 year old and then of course I couldn't help but think that of course we weren't blessed with another child, when I can't always handle the one I have!
Sophie was quiet in the car for the first time ever! I tried to explain to her why mommy was getting upset. A few days prior we had made a deal that mommy would yell less if Sophie would listen more, but we both failed today. By the time we were half way there, she was her old chatty self, while I was still trying to navigate the morning roads and avoid an accident as I rushed to get us there. Once at Waldorf, I apologized for yelling at her and she gave me a huge hug. I begged her to listen to mommy and the teacher during the class and she readily agreed with a hearty "I promise Mommy!" - sadly, I've heard this before and I believe that she doesn't actually understand what a promise is.
The rest of the morning was peppered with little instances of not listening and doing her own thing. Sophie would decide to open the classroom door and run down the hall on her own, even after I repeatedly told her to never leave the classroom without mommy. On the playground, my pleas that she not throw sand went unheeded again. I explained that not only could she hit someone with the sand, but she will also be dirty from head to toe, especially since last week she was very upset to have sand in her shoes - but that was ignored. I had to ask her many times to follow me to the car and in the end I had to walk her by the hand. Because of my chronic pain issues, I have a small stool in the car that she uses to get herself into the carseat so that I don't have to lift her. I took the stool out and set it up beside the door so she could sit down while I cleaned her shoes. Again, I tried to explain to her in a very calm manner why I had wanted her not to throw sand and she suddenly screamed at me "No Mommy", while trying to purse my lips to quiet me down. I felt my blood pressure boil as I calmly told her that we were no longer going to see daddy or to the store and that instead we were going straight home for lunch and nap.
We went down for a nap after lunch, while I prayed that we both woke up in a better mood. I knew that God didn't want me to behave this way, I knew that it was some other force who thrived on my misery, my self doubt, my anger and frustration and so I prayed for strength...
Sophie woke up all happy and jovial. We went to the bathroom to go potty and I asked her to get dressed, but she wanted to run around and kept ignoring me. I asked her if she had heard me ask her to get dressed and she said "No", even though I knew she had heard me. I told her that we needed to get dressed and she screamed at me "NO MOMMY, WE DON'T" and immediately slapped me in the face. I was stunned - she had never done this before. I reacted without thinking and told her that she is never to yell at mommy and then I slapped her hand because her hand was being bad. Yes, I fully realize that the logic there is faulty, telling a 3 year old not to hit while slapping her hand - but in the moment, all the Attachment Parenting/RIE tools that I had went out the window. Of course the rest of the night was full of more of these type of issues - dumping bird seed all over the garage floor, throwing her pogo dog on the floor at dinner time, etc.
I have to keep telling myself that this IS to be expected. She is a child, she is three. I am an adult, who is going through a heck of a lot right now and who temporarily can't get a hold of her emotions. I know that reasoning or explaining these concepts to her isn't working as she doesn't understand, so I think we will simply need to remove her from situations [like going straight home today] or take away items until she grasps the concept of consequences. As for me, I've talked to Freddie and we both agree that she is exercising her freedom and trying to get things her way and that it will be difficult for the next little while. But I know that it will pass - I remember similar issues after we lost Asia, where my personal reaction was totally inappropriate. Luckily, its the weekend and I'll have Freddie's support for the next two days so perhaps we can tag team her a little bit and I can try to deal with my emotions.
I've felt like a crap parent all day. I know I behaved poorly. Today, I doubted my abilities to parent Sophie properly - and it wasn't the first time. I was worried how I'll be able to handle future tantrums and if I can raise her to be a good person. Today, I felt the stares of other parents as I struggled with a toddler who wouldn't listen, but most of all, I struggled with myself. Clearly, not one of my finer parenting moments :-(
Thursday, April 30, 2015
POST IDEAS
-when to stop having kids
-how will all these losses affect Sophie? Pressure to be perfect?
-not feeling heard and prayer
-how will all these losses affect Sophie? Pressure to be perfect?
-not feeling heard and prayer
When it happens again...and again...
When we lost Sammy in August of 2010, I thought my life was over. I knew that I would never be the same. I was angry at everyone and everything, I was in disbelief as I slowly worked my way through all the stages of grief. I think that what helped the most, was another pregnancy 10 months later. The prospect of a second child, another chance at a family gave me hope - although I should point out that my pregnancy was fraught with worry and fear, but I kept telling myself that lightning wouldn't strike twice.
By the time we were trying for our third baby, our only living daughter Sophie was 18 months and life seemed to finally be falling into place. It took us 3 cycles to get pregnant and this time, I was confident that all would be fine, after all I had already been the 'one in four'. When we learned that our third child, Asia, had two fatal diagnoses, my world fell apart...again. My days were filled with prayer, pleading and begging that the diagnoses were wrong. As the pregnancy progressed, I felt lulled in a blanket of hope that Asia would be born at term and we'd spend some time with her, take photos, hand moulds, etc. Her arrival was a whirlwind, unexpected, sudden and fast...and none of my plans came to fruition. After her death, I fell into my grief as the anger and rage returned. I was angry at the guy that cut me off on the road, at the deli lady because she didn't ask how I wanted my meat sliced, at the gas attendant for smiling and wishing me a good day. I remember going grocery shopping for the first time and watching everyone else go about their business as if nothing had happened, when all I wanted to do was scream that I had just buried a second child.
By the time Asia died, both my husband and I were approaching 40. Due to Asia's genetic issues, we were both tested [we're not carriers] but the geneticist also reviewed the statistics of genetic issues related to maternal age and the numbers increased. Of course it depends on how you look at it - a 1 in 55 odds seems like a lot, but when converted to a 1.8% chance it doesn't seem so bad. So one birth in 55 will have a genetic issue, but as my husband reminded me, it also means that 54 births will be just fine. At what point were we comfortable with the numbers? For us, we felt that we just didn't want to risk a genetic issue and would stop actively trying for a baby so that I would not be delivering past the age of 42. For us, a maternal age of 42 was starting to get risky with genetic issues rising and that was our stopping point. We knew we had to decide this in advance because when you want a child so desperately, its easy to keep saying 'just one more month'.
Since we didn't have a lot of time, I shoved my grief aside and we dove back into trying for a sibling for Sophie. We were thrilled when within a short time frame, we were pregnant again. My numbers were low, but it was early and I BELIEVED that this heart-wrenching loss would NOT happen again ... but it did. We suffered a chemical pregnancy. I was lost. I was angry. I was spent. But it wasn't the first or the last. Our chemical pregnancy was followed by five more, month after month after month. By the time the second positive test showed up, my hope and resilient belief that this baby would live began to wane, and that hope and glimmer of a future as a family of 4 was getting fainter and fainter. By the time we were going through our 6th chemical pregnancy, I had come to expect a loss. A positive pregnancy test was met with fear and anxiety and waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. It was getting harder and harder to grieve, not only because I had a 2 year old that required attention during the day, but also because I think my brain was trying to protect my heart. I would go through the motions of the day and focus on Sophie, but when the house was quiet my heart would bleed for every little soul who was a transient visitor in our lives. I spent many nights weeping for the futures that these children would never have. At least with Asia, we had the chance to see her, hold her, kiss her and spend time with her, but these 6 little angels left no tangible proof of their existence - no ultrasound, no photos. I would climb into bed in the middle of the night while holding Asia's ashes wrapped in a baby blanket and I would fall asleep crying, trying not to wake Sophie and my sleeping husband.
Our TTC journey continued with no success for several months. My feeling were all over the map - hope and fear all intermingled, a thousand 'what if's' running through my mind. Finally, last month, we saw another positive test and again all was going well...until it wasn't. I was 7.5 weeks pregnant when I started miscarrying our 10th child [our 9th loss]. The anger and frustration returned with a vengeance and is still here today. I'm at a loss as to what to say, how to feel...
How could this happen to us over and over and over and over again? Had we not fulfilled every statistical requirement? Why do we keep 'winning' this lottery? Perhaps we should just stop trying...but then I remember how thrilled we were to hear the news of a baby finally joining our family and that restores an inkling of hope. But the sadness and grief is all consuming. I go through the motions of each day, trying to keep it together, but the tears are there, right under the surface. I feel extremely sad and frustrated and ... defeated. We have a few more months left in our journey and I don't know if I have the energy or stamina to keep going. I feel like my world is crumbling - death after death after death. I'm so pessimistic that even when something good happens, I freely admit that I wait knowingly until something bad happens. I've been robbed of the naïveté of a worry free pregnancy or a worry free birth. I see someone I know announce a pregnancy and I hear a voice in my head saying 'Don't be so sure...bad things happen all the time'. I feel like the downer, the pessimist who can't be happy for someone else. It's like a dark cloud hanging over my head right now. And this sadness and depression has spilled over to other areas of my life. I feel lost as to what my purpose is - its clear what my purpose is NOT. I'm not a good mother to Sophie right now as my grief and anger blind me, complicated by her defiant spirit at 3 years old. Due to no support on our previous losses, we haven't mentioned to anyone what we are going through and that in itself is very isolating and lonely. I feel like a hermit living in a vibrant and social place - yet still alone, isolated and lonely.
I don't know how to pick up all these pieces. I don't know how to move forward, how to walk away from that place of grief where I am now. I don't know if I can bear one more BBQ or dinner where I smile and pretend it's all ok. How many more times will we go through this? Will we ever have a baby join our family? Will Sophie ever have a sibling?? How am I supposed to go on and LIVE, when 9/10 of our babies DIED? And 9/10 or 90% rate of death is a crazy high number, no matter how you look at it!
By the time we were trying for our third baby, our only living daughter Sophie was 18 months and life seemed to finally be falling into place. It took us 3 cycles to get pregnant and this time, I was confident that all would be fine, after all I had already been the 'one in four'. When we learned that our third child, Asia, had two fatal diagnoses, my world fell apart...again. My days were filled with prayer, pleading and begging that the diagnoses were wrong. As the pregnancy progressed, I felt lulled in a blanket of hope that Asia would be born at term and we'd spend some time with her, take photos, hand moulds, etc. Her arrival was a whirlwind, unexpected, sudden and fast...and none of my plans came to fruition. After her death, I fell into my grief as the anger and rage returned. I was angry at the guy that cut me off on the road, at the deli lady because she didn't ask how I wanted my meat sliced, at the gas attendant for smiling and wishing me a good day. I remember going grocery shopping for the first time and watching everyone else go about their business as if nothing had happened, when all I wanted to do was scream that I had just buried a second child.
By the time Asia died, both my husband and I were approaching 40. Due to Asia's genetic issues, we were both tested [we're not carriers] but the geneticist also reviewed the statistics of genetic issues related to maternal age and the numbers increased. Of course it depends on how you look at it - a 1 in 55 odds seems like a lot, but when converted to a 1.8% chance it doesn't seem so bad. So one birth in 55 will have a genetic issue, but as my husband reminded me, it also means that 54 births will be just fine. At what point were we comfortable with the numbers? For us, we felt that we just didn't want to risk a genetic issue and would stop actively trying for a baby so that I would not be delivering past the age of 42. For us, a maternal age of 42 was starting to get risky with genetic issues rising and that was our stopping point. We knew we had to decide this in advance because when you want a child so desperately, its easy to keep saying 'just one more month'.
Since we didn't have a lot of time, I shoved my grief aside and we dove back into trying for a sibling for Sophie. We were thrilled when within a short time frame, we were pregnant again. My numbers were low, but it was early and I BELIEVED that this heart-wrenching loss would NOT happen again ... but it did. We suffered a chemical pregnancy. I was lost. I was angry. I was spent. But it wasn't the first or the last. Our chemical pregnancy was followed by five more, month after month after month. By the time the second positive test showed up, my hope and resilient belief that this baby would live began to wane, and that hope and glimmer of a future as a family of 4 was getting fainter and fainter. By the time we were going through our 6th chemical pregnancy, I had come to expect a loss. A positive pregnancy test was met with fear and anxiety and waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. It was getting harder and harder to grieve, not only because I had a 2 year old that required attention during the day, but also because I think my brain was trying to protect my heart. I would go through the motions of the day and focus on Sophie, but when the house was quiet my heart would bleed for every little soul who was a transient visitor in our lives. I spent many nights weeping for the futures that these children would never have. At least with Asia, we had the chance to see her, hold her, kiss her and spend time with her, but these 6 little angels left no tangible proof of their existence - no ultrasound, no photos. I would climb into bed in the middle of the night while holding Asia's ashes wrapped in a baby blanket and I would fall asleep crying, trying not to wake Sophie and my sleeping husband.
Our TTC journey continued with no success for several months. My feeling were all over the map - hope and fear all intermingled, a thousand 'what if's' running through my mind. Finally, last month, we saw another positive test and again all was going well...until it wasn't. I was 7.5 weeks pregnant when I started miscarrying our 10th child [our 9th loss]. The anger and frustration returned with a vengeance and is still here today. I'm at a loss as to what to say, how to feel...
How could this happen to us over and over and over and over again? Had we not fulfilled every statistical requirement? Why do we keep 'winning' this lottery? Perhaps we should just stop trying...but then I remember how thrilled we were to hear the news of a baby finally joining our family and that restores an inkling of hope. But the sadness and grief is all consuming. I go through the motions of each day, trying to keep it together, but the tears are there, right under the surface. I feel extremely sad and frustrated and ... defeated. We have a few more months left in our journey and I don't know if I have the energy or stamina to keep going. I feel like my world is crumbling - death after death after death. I'm so pessimistic that even when something good happens, I freely admit that I wait knowingly until something bad happens. I've been robbed of the naïveté of a worry free pregnancy or a worry free birth. I see someone I know announce a pregnancy and I hear a voice in my head saying 'Don't be so sure...bad things happen all the time'. I feel like the downer, the pessimist who can't be happy for someone else. It's like a dark cloud hanging over my head right now. And this sadness and depression has spilled over to other areas of my life. I feel lost as to what my purpose is - its clear what my purpose is NOT. I'm not a good mother to Sophie right now as my grief and anger blind me, complicated by her defiant spirit at 3 years old. Due to no support on our previous losses, we haven't mentioned to anyone what we are going through and that in itself is very isolating and lonely. I feel like a hermit living in a vibrant and social place - yet still alone, isolated and lonely.
I don't know how to pick up all these pieces. I don't know how to move forward, how to walk away from that place of grief where I am now. I don't know if I can bear one more BBQ or dinner where I smile and pretend it's all ok. How many more times will we go through this? Will we ever have a baby join our family? Will Sophie ever have a sibling?? How am I supposed to go on and LIVE, when 9/10 of our babies DIED? And 9/10 or 90% rate of death is a crazy high number, no matter how you look at it!
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
What we all want: Acceptance
A few nights ago, my husband and I sat down to watch Diane Sawyer's interview with Bruce Jenner. My heart broke for this man who had gone through so much in his life, who seemingly had 'everything' but felt like a liar all this time. On the surface, Mr. Jenner's life seems perfect: a big family [6 biological children from 3 marriages and 4 stepchildren], a gorgeous home in Malibu, fame, fortune, time to enjoy his hobbies...what more could one want? But all that couldn't make up for the lack of authenticity in his life - wanting to be accepted for who he is, loved for what's on the inside and to be hopefully understood and not judged. As I watched the interview, so much of this resonated with me. After all, I also want to be understood, not judged, accepted and loved.
I want my friends and family to at least make an effort to understand my 'new normal', to ask how we are doing without our babies, to mention their names. Sadly, people avoid us, as if somehow the death of a child was contagious. Perhaps, I don't blame them. It must be very difficult and sobering to have to think, even if for a moment, about what it might feel like to lose a child. That pain is so intense that even thinking about it paralyzes you - so perhaps our friends and family simply avoid the topic altogether. But in order for my husband and I to be understood, they have to delve into this uncomfortable and painful place, they have to consider that some of our actions and decisions are deeply affected by the sense of pain and loss that we deal with on a daily basis, that some of the things they say or infer are very hurtful and inappropriate when examined in the context of this pain and loss.
I don't want to be judged - I guess that goes hand in hand with being understood. They think I don't notice the way their brows furrow when I respond a little harshly or loose my temper faster than always - but they are not dealing with this uncontrollable sense of anger, this beast that lives inside and feeds on the unfairness of my circumstance. They hide their sense of confusion when I call my angels by name because they forget who they are. But the most hurtful are the overt ones - the friend who emails to tell you that you should appreciate what you have because she 'would give a limb for a mother, husband OR little girl of my own that loved me' and that 'holding onto that initial grief isn't right'. I hear the former all the time - that Sophie, our only living child is such a blessing and that we should be grateful, as if we didn't appreciate her and thank God each night for having her in our lives. Then there is the latter, the constant requirement that I need to move on, yet the 'friend' telling me this has a tribute page to her deceased father where she posts often, keeping his memory alive. I think that is very sweet but I fail to understand why that is acceptable, but by mentioning my children, my grief is 'initial' [whatever that means] and 'not right'. Its because of this judging that we have stopped sharing our losses, or even the fact that we are trying for that matter. The judging is what hurts the most and it usually from people who seemed to understand, so maybe that is why it hurts so much.
I want to be loved. It seems like such a simple statement and it is. Having gone through so many losses, we have learned the hard way who truly loves us - and its not as many people as you'd think. It's not hard to find people to surround yourself with when times are good - we've had a houseful of 'friends' for Christmas parties, BBQ's etc. They would be crammed in like sardines and were happy to socialize in our home, eat our food and drink our booze... but when times got tough and we reached out asking for help, the love and support that we so desperately needed just wasn't there. Some never replied, some made excuses - while my heart kept hurting. There were a handful of people, those that we least expected, that were there and those are the friends we cherish. I so appreciate their love and support, because outside of that handful, our phone has gone silent. I just want to feel like I am important to our friends, like we matter and that these losses that we have endured have made a difference in their lives as well.
Acceptance - isn't that what we all want? Isn't that the culmination of the above three? I want people to accept me, the entire package, the good, the bad and ugly. I want to be able to show my true self to the world, to share that side of my life with my family and friends - but instead I feel like I live a double life full of smiles on the outside and emotional turmoil on the inside. I know that simply my presence at a social event makes people uncomfortable...and that is not acceptance.
I want my friends and family to at least make an effort to understand my 'new normal', to ask how we are doing without our babies, to mention their names. Sadly, people avoid us, as if somehow the death of a child was contagious. Perhaps, I don't blame them. It must be very difficult and sobering to have to think, even if for a moment, about what it might feel like to lose a child. That pain is so intense that even thinking about it paralyzes you - so perhaps our friends and family simply avoid the topic altogether. But in order for my husband and I to be understood, they have to delve into this uncomfortable and painful place, they have to consider that some of our actions and decisions are deeply affected by the sense of pain and loss that we deal with on a daily basis, that some of the things they say or infer are very hurtful and inappropriate when examined in the context of this pain and loss.
I don't want to be judged - I guess that goes hand in hand with being understood. They think I don't notice the way their brows furrow when I respond a little harshly or loose my temper faster than always - but they are not dealing with this uncontrollable sense of anger, this beast that lives inside and feeds on the unfairness of my circumstance. They hide their sense of confusion when I call my angels by name because they forget who they are. But the most hurtful are the overt ones - the friend who emails to tell you that you should appreciate what you have because she 'would give a limb for a mother, husband OR little girl of my own that loved me' and that 'holding onto that initial grief isn't right'. I hear the former all the time - that Sophie, our only living child is such a blessing and that we should be grateful, as if we didn't appreciate her and thank God each night for having her in our lives. Then there is the latter, the constant requirement that I need to move on, yet the 'friend' telling me this has a tribute page to her deceased father where she posts often, keeping his memory alive. I think that is very sweet but I fail to understand why that is acceptable, but by mentioning my children, my grief is 'initial' [whatever that means] and 'not right'. Its because of this judging that we have stopped sharing our losses, or even the fact that we are trying for that matter. The judging is what hurts the most and it usually from people who seemed to understand, so maybe that is why it hurts so much.
I want to be loved. It seems like such a simple statement and it is. Having gone through so many losses, we have learned the hard way who truly loves us - and its not as many people as you'd think. It's not hard to find people to surround yourself with when times are good - we've had a houseful of 'friends' for Christmas parties, BBQ's etc. They would be crammed in like sardines and were happy to socialize in our home, eat our food and drink our booze... but when times got tough and we reached out asking for help, the love and support that we so desperately needed just wasn't there. Some never replied, some made excuses - while my heart kept hurting. There were a handful of people, those that we least expected, that were there and those are the friends we cherish. I so appreciate their love and support, because outside of that handful, our phone has gone silent. I just want to feel like I am important to our friends, like we matter and that these losses that we have endured have made a difference in their lives as well.
Acceptance - isn't that what we all want? Isn't that the culmination of the above three? I want people to accept me, the entire package, the good, the bad and ugly. I want to be able to show my true self to the world, to share that side of my life with my family and friends - but instead I feel like I live a double life full of smiles on the outside and emotional turmoil on the inside. I know that simply my presence at a social event makes people uncomfortable...and that is not acceptance.
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