*Keep in mind that my purpose in starting this blog is to process EVERY feeling, thought - good and bad after losing a baby. There are many, many, many parents out there who have suffered this kind of loss. There is so little out there to help them feel relatable and identify with others and strengthen each other. I hope this blog and particular entries, like this will help them not feel alienated and isolated.*
It's weird. I'm doing two posts today. Today marks the 22nd week since Levi started to die. He was to be born at any point this past week. My water broke 22 weeks ago, after I had given Jacob lunch and put him down for a nap. As we found out three days later, Levi's head was smaller than it should have been at this point, he had an infection of some sort, hence, my body began rejecting him. The denial I spoke of in today's earlier post, really applies here. For about the first six weeks after Levi died, I hated Fridays SO bad. It was a hard time also for my Hubby. He never said anything, but those dark weeks - so much hanging over me - I was drunk every Friday by the time he came home. I waited until about 1:30PM (when my water broke) and would drink until I felt like I wanted to puke. Poor Hubby, when he'd come home, I was a blubbering mess, like he didn't have enough on his plate. God, my Creator, my Lifeline brought me through so much. He will all of us if we're humble enough to let Him. I was alone, because I didn't know who I could trust other than Him.
People have called me brave or steadfast in keeping my focus. I beg to differ. It was not the right coping mechanism - but it was so dark. I've experienced several close deaths to me, but nothing like wishing that the impact Levi would make, on this world, would have been made evident by him living. To the point that I wished I would have died - I would have chose to save him and not me. Instead, I was left with the feeling that I wanted to die, but what purpose would it serve now? I'm a big one into exposing the darkness with the LIGHT! It doesn't allow the darkness to grow or for the shadows to creep. Somewhere along the line of 6-8 weeks, I didn't want to drink on Fridays anymore. I sat down to tell you about the Friday after Levi died.....
Hubby went to work that morning. Jacob wanted to go back to preschool. I was going to be alone. The following day is when some family would be arriving for Levi's memorial service, on Sunday. I don't remember a thing about my time alone that morning. I went to get Jacob from preschool. I was standing, in the lobby, with many other parents. There was another mom, whom I didn't know was pregnant, but she was definitely showing. She had what looked to be like a 9mo.-1 year old little girl crawling, on the floor. She was so cute. I could feel the tears starting to swell and no one knew what I had been through. I decided to go back to my car and wait until the kids were dismissed. I had locked the doors, as I sat in my car. When I saw parents with their children emerging, I went to get out of the car. The friggin' alarm started blaring! My car is a 2000 Honda and I couldn't get the remote alarm button on my key chain to shut the stupid bugger off! I was freaking. Everyone was looking at me. No one was helping. I started to sob uncontrollably. As the stupid car kept squawking, I started to walk up the sidewalk to expose my freaking-out self, in an attempt to ask anyone for help to get the dumb car to shut the hell up. What was making me so frantic about this, is that it felt like an outward demonstration of what I wanted to do from the inside of me. I wanted to go off like an alarm and tell everyone that I needed help. Mostly, the parents moved away from me, like "woah...psycho.." some even gripped their kids closer. The cute little pregnant mommy looked at me furrowed her eyebrows and said, "It's just an alarm honey, it'll be ok." She moved on. There was one mom. One mom who came running, "It's ok, it's ok Beth. Why are you so upset?", as she got the stupid frickin' thing to shut off. She had her arm around me, I burrowed my face into her neck and said, "We lost our baby Monday." She was instantly taken aback and so compassionate. I am so grateful for her kindness. Even 21 weeks later, on Fridays, as I prepare to leave to get Jacob from preschool, I reflect on her doing a simple thing, which touched a broken heart so much deeper than she will ever understand. She held me a bit that day, then I got myself together. I knew I couldn't be freaking out for Jacob to see. I went to the door, quickly thanked his teacher for getting him ready to come home and we were on our way home.
I just want to say - if you learn of a woman that has suffered a miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss - please ask the question, "How can I help you?" So many of us don't know how to react and we kind of ignore it, because it is such a painful loss to try to fathom. Don't be afraid of it. It's a real death too.
I am at a 95% better place than I was 21 weeks ago. Truly. I am reflecting on how far I've come, in this time - since this is the weekend of Levi's due date. That's all.
