Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Lessons

Its the little things that get me.  I can cope with babies now, just about.  I don't burst out crying when i see them anymore,  i don't feel the unstoppable bubble of jealousy rising up anymore.  I no longer feel the overwhelming urge to tell everyone with a newborn that they are so so lucky and that they should cherish every moment of their sleepless nights and days.   I have learnt that the world carries on with or without my grief.  I have learnt to understand that people will always complain about their children and that they don't do it to hurt me, it is just a thing that they do to vent.  I have learnt a lot of things this last year!  I can even say that i am happy for someone who announces a pregnancy and i actually mean it.  I can say congratulations and mean it.  I can buy baby items for people and not want to cry.

I have learnt that there are some things i cannot cope with very easily.  I have learnt that i AM the kind of person that has days where i can't get out of bed and that sometimes a day in bed is all i can cope with.  I never thought i would be one of 'those' people.  I always thought i was quite strong but i have learnt that i am not actually.  I have coping strategies and i am able to put on a face and live daily life and make it so i can get through a day and act normal.  I have learnt how to do that this last year.  A lot of people i know have told me throughout this last year that i am strong.  They are wrong.  I can cope, just about.  I am not strong, i am the weakest i have been.  Having your baby die and then having 2 further miscarriages in one year does that to you.  I have learnt how to cope with the big things.

But its the little things that get me.  The things that pop up and surprise me.  Things like the toybox in Ikea that i see and think for a nano second 'oooh that would go with Isaacs furniture' when i walk past it and then it hits me he is not here and he won't be needing a toybox.  I actually forget for that nanosecond that all the rubbish has happened and i don't know how i do that.  I wish i did, i would do it a hell of a lot more often.  And then it comes flooding back that it has happened.  That i am the person who's baby died.  I am that person.  And its these things that hurt.  I can't sit and cry in the middle of Ikea over a toybox.

It's when i sit in church and see the children playing with the flags and ribbons and i smile and then - just for that nanosecond - i see Isaac's coffin sat on a table just exactly where they are playing and i feel myself falling again.  It's hearing people pray for the children and mentioning their names and yet Isaac's isn't there.  Of course it isn't there silly, but it still feels like it should be there.  I can sit in church and i can tell you exactly where he was placed, i can tell you exactly how i felt and i can place every exact flower that was in the floral display next to him, but i can't tell you who was there.  I can sit on a sunday evening and i can see myself the sunday after his funeral.  I can see myself leaving the hall and walking into the hallway and breaking down crying and saying that i just miss him so much.  And i can feel exactly how i felt that day.  I still feel like that.  The feeling is just as intense and crushing as it was that day and i just want to reach out to myself and hold me and tell me it will be ok in the end, but i know it won't.  I still feel that devastated, i have just learnt how to hide it better, how to cope with everyday life and how to keep my feelings inside.

Its that moment the advert for a new design of reusable nappy appears on my screen and i think 'oooh i will have to look into that' and then have to correct myself.  I don't need to.  I don't have a baby.

Its times like walking around the supermarket and i reach for the nicer, more expensive ingredient.  And do you know what i immediately think?  I think to myself 'i shouldn't be able to afford this, i should be spending all my money on clothes because my son has grown again'.  I know it is irrational.  We're not exactly rolling in money and its not like my shopping bill is massive, but i feel the tears welling up just because i reach for the extra special range instead of the bog standard supermarket range.

Its when i get that all wanted positive on the pregnancy test and instead of being happy i get instantly scared, terrified, wonder if i am doing the right thing - only to get it confirmed 7 or 8 weeks later that maybe we weren't doing the right thing.

You may think that i should have got to the point where these things don't get to me anymore, but you would be wrong.  I think that i will always be like this now.  My time is measured now before Isaac and after Isaac.  Before Isaac rubbish happened.  I didn't have a perfectly wonderful life.  My life went wrong sometimes just like anyone else.  I found it hard sometimes but i dealt with it.  After Isaac the smallest thing goes wrong and i crumble.  I stay in bed, i sit in my pj's and i eat chocolate.

I find life in general quite hard.  Just someone telling me i have too much time on my hands as a passing remark (not trying to get at me) hurts me because i know i do.  I have way too much time on my hands - my time should be taken up by a 13 month old.  

I don't know when i will get better.  I don't think i will get better.  I think i have yet more lessons to learn.  I think i have to learn how to deal with me as i am now and not wait for the me i was before Isaac to come back.
I am having a bad day today, you may be able to tell!  I have good days too and i try to remember that on days like this.




 

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