Comforted

My younger brother Rob called today. He was trying to ask me something and fighting to find the right words, questioning whether he should even ask me at all. I could tell. He said it was about Hunter and I told him to just tell me.

He is an incredible artist, he hasn't done anything in a while, his life has made that challenging lately but he's really amazing. He saw the pictures of Hunter awhile ago and asked me if he could draw a picture of him.

This is a perfect example of how people think they must treat a grieving mother. They assume that the mere mention of our dead child will upset us when in fact it is quite the opposite. We want our family, friends, coworkers, to acknowledge the life of our child. So what my brother has done today is a great gift. He's not only acknowledged my son, he's offered to memorialize him forever in the best way he can. Art.

I have few physical mementos of Hunter and they are very precious to me. Him doing this, is giving me more of what I love so much. And I love him very much for this.

The Insensitive Ones

I had a bad day yesterday. I had to listen to a coworker (who is as far along as I was when Hunter died) complain that she now has biweekly appointments instead of monthly ones. She complained that it was a waste of time, unnecessary and stupid. I then heard the rest of the department jump in (she is their superior so they say whatever she wants to hear) and actually validate her complaints. I fumbled for my ipod and headphones to block out the conversation but it was too late. The damage was done.

I was told the same thing at my last appointment before Hunter died. That my appointments too would now be biweekly. To me this meant that I was closer, that I would get to hear my baby's precious heartbeat twice instead of once a month which thrilled me. Even in my "ignorant and blissfull" days of pregnancy, I looked forward to this next stage of my pregnancy. But I never had a biweekly check up. I argue now that all pregnancies should be treated as high risk. A book I'm reading now, Trying Again by Ann Douglas and John R. Sussman, M.D. questions why the medical communtity won't give you the "High Risk" level of care unless you have a baby die. As if you must have the one "freeby". Shouldn't every life deserve that level of care, the book said.

So while this woman is complaining about too much care, I'm wishing I could have had more care, maybe Hunter would have survived. Now I know that I've posted earlier that there was nothing anyone could have done; I still have my doubts and can't help but think "what if".

I don't wish that her baby would die so she could understand. I do wish she understood enough to keep these thoughts to herself. And I do wish she would be more sensitive speaking about such matters in front of me. I tell myself over and over... They just don't understand. I'm just still hurt.

Waiting

"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...it's about learning how to dance in the rain."

I left my shrink appointment today feeling worse not better. My raw emotions were brought to the surface... again. Not that that's a bad thing, but when you get back into the swing of things, you are forced to wear your happy face. Then all of a sudden reality crashes back in and I'm left feeling the same way I did when I first found out my baby died.

I left the appointment feeling out another $25 bucks ($300 for my insurance company) and still without answers. After receiving an email from another baby loss momma in my free online support group, I got the best answer I could get. This will never go away. This is my life now and I just have to learn to cope with it. As I learn to cope, it will get better. Right now, I am just trying to find the best ways for ME to cope and this could be different for everyone. If coping means seeing a shrink once a week to talk about things, then fine. That's just not what I'm sure about yet. Time will tell.

Regrets

When Pat and I held Hunter for the first time, it felt like holding a doll. It was a very unreal moment. He didn't feel like mine, and I didn't get too upset. I cried a little. But I cried more before and after. This was the only visual I had of him. Everything else was the idea of him. When he would be here, where he would sleep, what he would wear, how I would feed him. When the doctor's told me he died, all of these thoughts died with him. The baby I held didn't really exsist. I wish I was more prepared. When I found out he passed, I wanted him out. I wanted to get it over with. The sooner I could get home, out of the hospital that had killed my baby, the better. That sounds absolutely awful, but honestly I didn't know what to think, I was infuriated and in absolute disbelief. At first I didn't even know if I wanted to see him. I didn't know if I could handle it emotionally. Is this what parents did? Did they hold and see their dead babies? Hospitals should be better prepared to inform parents of their rights in this situation. I have pictures of Hunter that the nurses took, but I could have taken my own. No one told me that. I could have asked for his foot prints, no one told me that either. I was in a cloud, everything around me was in slow motion yet happening so fast. I didn't know how I was supposed to act or what I should say. They handed me a brochure. I didn't read it until after I came home. We held Hunter for 20 minutes. Then we gave him back. We didn't know what else to do.

The Shrink

I can't go on and on complaining about how awful my life is right now and how hard it is to face every single situation. Each time someone asks me for baby pictures or how's the baby? Each time I see a newborn at the grocery store or brought into the office by a new proud parent. I can't help but think that right now, I should have a healthy baby boy. I can't help it when everything I do, I think what would I being doing if Hunter was here.

I can't do that to my friends and family. But I can't pretend it didn't happen either. I still need to deal with it. My future child deserves the right to have parents who are 100% commited to him/her instead of still trying to cope with the grief of losing a past child.

So I finally made the move. I think I've coped very well so far. I have a great support system, but they've done all they can do. Now I'll just pay a professional.

My due date was August 3rd. I thought about writing that day but honestly just couldn't bring myself to do it. Denial was my best coping method. It was another milestone that I had been dreading and now it's past and I'm not sure I feel any different... better or worse.