Tag Archive | control

I Used to Like Roller Coasters…

Yup!  I used to love the thrill of being whipped around, feeling weightless, strapped down, and completely out of control.  I used to love roller coasters – until I ended up on this one.  This one never ends.  For the last 7 months and 4 days, I have been on a roller coaster with no end in sight.  No place to catch my breath and stop screaming for just a short period of time.

I’m so tired.  The constant shift of emotions does not stop.  I have bad days and better days, good weeks and weeks that seem like they will never end.  I perform a 6 hour production every day at school.  My students have no idea what goes on inside my head – and most of my colleagues don’t either.  That’s how it should be.  At this point, I should be able to function effectively and do my job well – and I am.  But it’s so exhausting.

Back in December, Hackie and I took our dog, Halee to the vet for her annual check-up.  She received several routine vaccinations that she had gotten before.  Almost immediately, I knew something was wrong.  Halee became very lethargic and though she never lost consciousness, she was unresponsive (wouldn’t look up).  She was having an allergic reaction.  After some antihistamines and about 10 minutes, she was wagging her tail and on her way to acting like herself.  In those 10 minutes, I spiraled into panic and extreme upset.  Thank goodness my husband was there.  All I could think of was that I couldn’t handle another loss.  I needed my dog.  It was awful.

I’m on my way to understanding that grief is a roller coaster and that it will never end.  I get that there will be ups and downs, long climbs and sudden drops.  I will forever live with the pain of losing my daughter.  When it gets unbearable is when the roller coaster jerks unexpectedly.  You know the sharp hairpin turns that you don’t see coming that leave you with awful whiplash?  That’s what the vet visit was – an awful unexpected jerk that was just plain horrible.

Traveling the road to another baby has been a roller coaster in and of itself.  Each month hopeful.  Each month convinced that this month will be it.  Each month new symptoms that surely mean it’s happened.  Each month extreme disappointment when I realize my hopes and dreams will have to continue to wait.  I’m so tired.  Again, the roller coaster of emotions – fear, eager anticipation, frustration, and then guilt.  Guilt that perhaps I am too focused on getting pregnant again and not properly grieving the loss of the baby I already had.

I have come to realize that the more time that passes, the more unpredictable my grief becomes.  My sadness can be triggered in the most unexpected moments.  It used to be that I would replay the events of my labor and delivery in the car on the way to and from work.  Now, it does not follow a pattern.  It usually plays through my head once a day – but I never know when that will be.  My sadness is now connected to a feeling of disappointment.  My life is not what I want it to be.  It’s not what it is supposed to be.  As more time passes and the length of time between Maya and baby #2 increases, I grow more and more disappointed that I don’t have what I want and that it’s not in my control.

In the past month, Hackie and I have done some traveling.  Just after Christmas, we went to Washington DC for 4 days.  Hackie had never been and I hadn’t been in a long time.  We had so much fun.  Our days were packed with activities and we ate some amazing food.  We talked about Maya and about our future – fantasizing about traveling with our children.  We returned feeling refreshed, recharged, and ready for the new year.  We were also in the “convinced I’m pregnant” stage.  When we returned and found out I was not, the high I had been feeling shifted to a low.  I went back to feeling tired and disappointed.

Last weekend, Hackie and I flew down to Florida.  My parents are there for a few weeks and we needed a dose of warm weather.  The weather was gorgeous.  We had a wonderful time sitting on the beach, swimming, going to the aquarium, and enjoying my parents’ company.  We wrote Maya’s name in the sand and fantasized about coming back next year with a little baby and taking pictures on that beach.  I came back with a nice sunburn, a fresh batch of vitamin D, and a lot of energy.  Being in Florida made me realize that I probably have a case of the winter blues.  This is probably why I’ve been so tired.

So, Florida was an up, Washington DC was an up, getting unexpected gifts from friends is an up, having a great day with Hackie is an up, getting a look from Halee where it’s clear she is saying “I love you” is an up.  I feel them all and I try so hard to soak up the moment and to milk every ounce of joy that I can out of the feeling.  The lows are less predictable and are often hard to get past.  Walking by the empty nursery, seeing an infant car seat base in the car parked next to me at work, watching the young couple play ‘pass the baby’ while they take turns bowling.  Most of the time, the low moments are caused when I’m reminded of what I do not have.

Currently, I grieve two losses.  I grieve the loss of my precious Maya, which is something I will do for the rest of my life.  I also grieve the loss of the life I had envisioned for myself.  A life where taking care of myself and Hackie comes second to taking care of our child.  A life filled with sleepless nights, dirty diapers, tons of laundry, and most importantly lots of love and laughter.  I will never get my Maya back.  I know that.  However, I will get that life I had envisioned.  Someday I will take care of my child here on Earth.  Someday the grief of losing my baby girl will sit elsewhere in my brain as my primary role shifts from mourning the loss of my angel to caring for new life here on Earth.  Someday the roller coaster will feel different.

Can a Single Year Be the Best and the Worst?

I have pondered that question and my last blog post of this year for several weeks.  The answer is yes.

From January to June 16th, almost exactly the first half of the year, I was the happiest I have ever been.  I had an amazing family, a fabulous husband, a beautiful dog, a perfect house, and a baby on the way.  (And I still have almost all those things.)  I was so enjoying preparing my life for a new little baby.  I was so ready for the next chapter.  During this time, we completed some projects on the house, prepared the nursery, each celebrated our 27th birthdays, had a beautiful baby shower, and hosted a lovely Mother’s Day gathering for my family.  I also finished my Master’s degree, which was a huge accomplishment.  It was a happy time.

Though my personal life felt quite perfect, my professional life was anything but.  I was having a miserable school year.  I loved working with my students, but the paperwork and politics that went along with the job made it so frustrating.  I tried so hard to do my best work and to do right for my students.  In the end, I was no longer happy as a special education teacher and I knew I had to find a way out.

I’m declaring June 16, 2012 the best and worst day of my life.  I delivered my daughter – my first born.  I felt the love that every mother describes.  I felt pride and joy over the fact that I had a daughter who could become as girly and artsy as her Mama.  I was excited to go shopping.  On this same day, the worst thing that could ever happen to a person did.  My child died.  I lost my baby and all the dreams and plans that went with her.  I felt emotional pain like none I’ve ever felt before.  I lost a huge part of myself and my world was shattered.  I was forever changed.

Since Maya was born and died, the rest of the year has been a roller coaster.  I have a new perspective on life.  I have developed a true understanding of what’s important and just how precious life is.  When my world shattered, I searched and searched for a way to put the pieces back together, only to realize that it’s out of my control.  When I let go and let the pieces drop back into place, I gained some clarity on my climb up the mountain.

I have reconnected with some old friends and grown more close to others.  I have been the recipient of some of the most beautiful acts of kindness and my faith in humanity has been restored.  I have made new friends, especially in the online world.  There are now people all over the world who know Maya’s story.  I no longer feel like I am on this journey alone.

I have grown closer to my husband than I ever felt possible.  We have both changed, and he has remained strong in these dark times.  I am so blessed to have such an amazing man by my side.

In addition to navigating this road and climbing this mountain called grief, other things have happened this year, and as I reflect, most of them have been good.  I finally got out of being a SPED teacher.  I am in a teaching position that I love and I feel so comfortable in my new role.  My job is my saving grace right now.  I went on some wonderful trips both before and after Maya was born and died.  While some of these trips were for the purpose of healing, they were enjoyable and memorable in their own right.

So yes.  2012 is the year that I lost my baby and felt more sadness and grief than I ever thought possible.  It was and hopefully will remain the worst experience of my life.  However, 2012 is also the year when some of the best things happened to me including the birth of my daughter, the completion of my Masters, a new job, new friends, and a new me.  I am slowly getting to know this new me and I like her.  Would I trade her in for my daughter?  Of course.  But that is not an option.

So, as we move into 2013, I am content with 2012.  I am sad to leave behind the year that brought little miss Maya into our lives.  However, I am entering 2013 with hope, comfort, and gratitude for the life that I have.  I look forward to getting to know the new me.  I look forward to letting go of the control and letting my path lay itself.  I’m not sure what lies ahead, but I am ready and excited!

I wish all of you a Happy New Year!  May 2013 bring you all that you hope for and more!

 

Unnecessary Inner Turmoil

I experience a lot of inner turmoil on a daily basis.  No, on an hourly basis.  I replay the events of Maya’s birth and death.  I think about what could have been done differently.  I play the “What if?” game constantly.  I think about who knows and who doesn’t know.  I avoid certain situations and people for fear that someone will catch me off guard and ask when I’m not ready to answer.  I cringe when someone casually remarks, “just wait until you have children” or asks how I’m spending the holidays.  I reflect on, evaluate, and reevaluate every Maya-related conversation.  My mind is constantly racing trying desperately to prepare for what might be said or what might trigger my always-present sadness to rise to the surface.  It’s exhausting.

I learned a very important lesson today – it’s not all necessary.

Two days after Maya was born and died, Hackie and I broadcasted the news on facebook.  I was very public about my pregnancy – posting belly photos, nursery photos, and baby shower pictures.  Just two days before I delivered I posted a status on how great my ultrasound went and how big the baby was.  I knew there were many on facebook who would be eagerly awaiting the news of Maya’s birth – so I had to share.  I have often said that I’m grateful for facebook as it allowed me to share the news with most of the people I know while providing an easy method for others to show their support.  I still go back and read the messages and comments we received after posting that devastating status.

After the facebook announcement, there were really only a handful of people who had known that I was pregnant but did not know what had happened.  Most of them I only risk running into and it’s possible that they could hear the news from someone else in the community (I’m thinking mainly of the parents of my students from last year).  There was one person in particular that I knew I’d have to see and have to tell – my hairdresser.

It sounds so silly, but I have spent hours struggling with this.  I got my hair cut on my birthday, which is at the end of May.  I was 32 and half weeks pregnant.  Though I knew I didn’t really need to worry about it until August/September, I started thinking about it almost immediately after I had Maya.  Every time I did my hair I thought about going into the salon and ruining her day with my devastating news.  I thought about how awkward it would be to then have to sit in the chair for over an hour watching her struggle to come up with the right thing to say.  Or avoid the wrong things to say.  So I put it off.  I wanted to grow my hair out anyway.

When I passed the 6 month mark with no haircut, I really wanted to gain the strength to make the appointment and face this challenge.  Today, I was feeling brave.  The door had opened where I felt courageous enough to call, and I knew that if I didn’t jump at the opportunity, the door would close and I would chicken out.  I knew there was risk of her answering the phone, so I prepared myself for that.  I made the call from school so I couldn’t get too emotional.  She didn’t answer the phone.  I proceeded to go through the process expressing that I needed to make an appointment for a haircut.  When asked what day I wanted to come in, I explained that I’d like to see Cyndi.  “Cyndi doesn’t work here anymore,” is what I heard through the phone.  Wow, I thought.  All that worry and inner turmoil for nothing.  Although, I then started to panic as I had so much trouble finding a hairdresser that I liked.  Now what was I going to do?  I asked where she went only to be told that she’s not even cutting hair anymore.

Unbelievable.  For almost 6 months, I worried and struggled and thought about one stupid haircut.  One encounter with one person who I will now never see again.  It was so unnecessary.  However, this whole experience was also very significant.  I made a big step in feeling ready to tell someone who did not know what happened.  Even though I won’t need to have this experience with my hairdresser, I will likely have to have it with someone else at a time when I’m not prepared.  I feel more confident that I will be able to handle the inevitable, “how is your baby?”

I’ve now got an appointment with a friend who owns her own salon, and I can officially put the haircut turmoil to rest.  I’m trying very hard to stay calm and to get less worked up about things like this.  When Maya died, my world shattered into a million pieces.  I didn’t really know where to begin putting them back together.  Slowly, things are starting to fall into place once again.  I have learned that I have to relinquish control and let the pieces fall.  I feel more calm and more open to seeing where life takes me rather than trying to plan my path so specifically.  This time, life took me to a new hairdresser.

 

A Meeting with Doctors and Feeling the Highs and Lows

We had a meeting yesterday at the hospital.  I had requested a meeting to review what we know happened to Maya.  There is a lot of fogginess for Hackie and I when it comes to the memory of that day so we were hoping that some of the gaps could be filled in.  We met with my OB, the OB who delivered Maya, the pediatrician, and the head of their department.  Overall, the meeting went well.  There wasn’t anything shocking revealed and there are still more questions than answers.  Here’s what I learned:

-I was actually good at pushing.  For the hour or so that I was pushing, Maya was doing better than she was doing throughout the labor.  I made good progress and was good at bringing her down.  This was news to me.  I was utterly exhausted during that hour and was falling asleep in between contractions.  I thought I was a total failure at being able to push my baby out.  Turns out, she was indeed stuck.

-Eight minutes before she was delivered, they checked her heart rate with the Doppler.  It was nice and strong.  When she came out, she was not breathing and had a very weak heart rate.

-The doctors were just as shocked as we were.  For some reason, I had convinced myself that the doctors knew the fate of Maya as I was being wheeled in for my c-section.  I also thought they had seen this before and maybe weren’t as dumbfounded as we were.  What I learned yesterday is that this does not happen often (especially in that small hospital) and they were, and still are, completely shocked.

-We still have no idea what went wrong.  We continue to wait for the autopsy report.  After yesterday’s meeting, I feel more strongly that it was not my labor and delivery that caused Maya’s death.  It seems as though my labor and delivery were relatively normal and this is just a freak thing that happened.

Though we still do not have the answers we want, the meeting put my mind at ease in some respects and filled in some gaps.  The strangest part of the whole thing was that I was the least emotional person at that table.  I basically led the meeting with my questions and was very business-like.

Afterwards, I tortured myself wondering why I wasn’t more affected by the meeting and the somber look on all the doctors’ faces.  I asked myself, “What is wrong with me that I am not more sad and emotional?”  I want to cry and scream and grieve with every ounce of my soul – but I can’t.  I have become desensitized to the highs and the lows.  I also hate pity.  I’ve dealt with a lot in my life and the last thing I want is for others to feel bad for me.  I am a strong person.  On Maya’s due date, I went to Panera for lunch and lost it.  Everyone who I was with stopped eating and stared at me.  I did not want this to happen at the  meeting yesterday, and I knew that if I lost it, the meeting would turn into a comfort session for me rather than getting the answers to our questions.

I know I will feel the lows again.  And I know that I cannot predict when they will happen.  The purpose of the meeting was to get some answers, and I needed to keep my emotions in check in order for that to happen.  I’m pleased with how it went and it was nice to see the doctors again.  Hackie and I are so blessed to have such compassionate doctors who were clearly affected by Maya’s death.  They have our best interest in mind going forward and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Due Date

For the past couple of weeks I have thought about this day.  My due date.  I have walked by the big calendar in the hall with “DUE DATE!!” written across this day.  I have noticed it on every July calendar that I see.  I told myself that it was no big deal.  I told myself that most babies don’t come on their due date anyway.  I told myself that June 16th was now the significant day and that July 22nd was insignificant.  I was wrong.  Today is a very significant day and it’s been very hard.

I probably said “July 22nd” over 100 times in answer to the question, “When are you due?”.  I said it with a big smile on my face.  It was my due date from the day I got pregnant.  It was what I used to tell my parents the big news (I toasted “to July 22nd” at dinner a week after I found out I was pregnant).  It was the day I counted down to for so long.  It was a special day.

As I live through it, I ache for what I do not have.  If Maya were here, today would have been insignificant.  She came early.  If she were still here, I would be well-adjusted to my life as a new mom by now.  If she were here, I would have looked back on these last five weeks thinking, “I couldn’t imagine life without her here”.  She is not here.  I know life without her and I hate it.  It sucks.  Today being her due date is just another reminder that she is not here.

I have learned yet another lesson in the art of grieving.  I can’t control it.  It’s very unpredictable.  I tried so hard to prepare myself for this day.  I made the decision that it wasn’t going to be a bad day, that I would get through it just fine, that it was insignificant.  Apparently, I can’t make decisions like that.  I have to let go and let this process run its course.  I have to trust that adjacent to the bad days will be better days.  I have to live on knowing that the bad day will end.

There will be many significant days.  I know that now.  I have learned that I have to allow them to be significant.  I have to allow myself to go to the bad place and express my sadness, anger, and frustration.  I have to go through the process.  When I’m the most sad, I start thinking about Maya.  I think about what she will miss, but I also think about the time I had with her.  Today, I decided to finally cut some of the pink lilies that are next to our driveway.  I had been admiring them for a week.  I don’t remember them there last year.  My husband and I went out and cut some and put them in a vase.  I have believed from the beginning that Maya would have loved pink and been a super girly girl.  When I see these flowers, I think of her.  I see her beauty in them and they make me smile… even on a bad day.