Saturday, January 14, 2012

Today

Eleven days shy of six months.

Before Nathaniel, when I needed some advice that I wasn't getting from other people, I would try to access my inner 50 year-old: the person who I imagine I will be when I'm 50. There have been many times when I have imagined sitting down with her in the garden and asking her for advice and direction.

I cannot access my inner 50 year old now. After Nathaniel, I have no idea who I will be when I'm 50, or if I'll even get there. Grief has changed all of that.

I can't imagine the future right now. I'm just moving forward, sometimes minute by minute. Sometimes hour by hour. I'm trying to get some volunteer opportunities going. I think that if I do some volunteer work I can become something more than I was before.

I wonder if I need a better attitude, or to try to have a more optimistic outlook. I have an aversion to sentences that start with "my therapist says. . ." but here's one anyway: my therapist says that it's too soon, and that I don't have to worry about trying to be optimistic or having a good attitude. My baby just died, and that is tragic.

So I go through the day hollow. I take a yoga class and I breathe into the hollowness of my soul, and try to find the clearest truths I can. I react inappropriately in situations, and then isolate myself because I'm afraid of reacting inappropriately.

I guess that I'm impatient with the grief. I'd like to have some peace.

12 comments:

  1. It's funny, I often find myself wishing that I could communicate with my younger self - whizzing back in a time machine to whisper in her ear on my wedding day, "Don't wait to have babies - start trying straight away - it's not as easy a road as you think."

    As for the positive attitude - I know. I feel like such a negative person these days. I'm almost bored of feeling down and sad and angry and all these negative things. I wonder if I'm pushing people away. What sort of life I'll be left with when we get back to some semblance of ordinary life.

    Wishing you peace.

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    1. Thank you, Aoife. I used to be such a positive person. It was almost a joke, but I could spin most dark clouds and find a silver lining. Now, when my brain tries to do that, it just seems so inauthentic.

      I do hope your little one brings you tremendous amounts of joy. I keep my fingers crossed for your healthy, perfect baby safe in your arms.

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  2. I wish we could go to yoga together. Nathaniel died shortly after Camille and so we are on the same time line. Most of the time I try and hope for hope. Because I fluctuate between sadness and trying to be optomistic. Sigh...it is so hard to be without them. JUST SO HARD. I find myself going out and interacting and then getting incredibly angry at people after the fact. I seathe inside. Sometimes I am so freak'n angry. I have lost so many friends. No one understands. For us 50 years old is a totally different prospect than it used to. our perspective has been forever skewed. I am sending so much love to you.

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    1. Renel, thank you. I wish we lived closer. My closest friends are at home with babies. I can't even see them or call them. It's too painful. I've been mostly socializing with my friends who *are* at least 50 years old and either have older kids or no kids at all, and they don't get it either, but it's not as painful to see and talk to them.

      You're lucky to have your career. I left my career teaching high school two years ago. I have a counselor friend who had a baby who died, and she's back to work now, and it's been hard, but good for her to have something else to focus on.

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  3. Can I join you and Renel in our group healing yoga? :)

    I have started going to yoga quite a bit, mostly to ask for healing. I haven't even dared to ask for fertility, or another baby, or hope, or happiness. I just want to feel like I'm getting a little better.

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  4. Yoga for all of us! As soon as I figure out whether or not it is actually healing for me, I will be shouting it loudly. I hope that something, anything, will start to help.

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  5. Yes minute by minute, hour by hour.. I get that Suzanne. One step forward, one step backward and then one step forward again. I'm here, moving forward with you, trying to find peace too. Everything is so different now isn't it. I'm so sorry for Nathaniel. He was so beautiful. I'm so sorry that we met under these circumstances but with that being said, it's nice to meet you, to not feel misunderstood and so alone.
    Sending love and wishes for gentler days your way, x

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  6. Suzanne- I am thinking of you and Nathaniel on this hard day. I know everyday is hard, but the milestones are hard in a different way. 6 months ... Thinking of you and sending love.

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    1. Thank you for your thoughts. Getting your post and knowing that you are there helps.

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  7. Carrying you and Nathaniel in my heart today. x

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  8. Suzanne - first & foremost Nathaniel is so flippin' adorable! He is absolutely precious and should be here with you and your family all chubby and chatty like 6-month olds are.

    My biggest hurdle in this grief process is patience. I want there to a direct affect of my actions to my emotions. I want this process to be linear and get very discouraged when I've been doing ok for awhile then end up back in the darkest of places. I want there to be a standard progression - tell me how this grief works, tell me what to expect, tell me how long it will last.

    I hope you find even a smidgen of patience and realize you are making progress. As hard as it is, try to be gentle with yourself.

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