The List

I've been meaning to create a list....as a reminder of where I've been and where I'm going.  There are still days that I still feel like my loss is so fresh and my wounds and heartache are so deep and heavy.  I still avoid certain situations, I still struggle with anger, I still have to stay busy to distract myself, I still have anxiety about what may come, I still worry about my children, and I still feel insecure and carry guilt for my child dying--inside of me.  I am definitely a different person.  I am sad.  I am happy.  I am grateful.  I am more loving.  I am more open.  I am more giving.  I am more cautious.  I am more fearful.  I am more patient.  I am not the same person.  I hope that I am a better person.

When I created this blog 2 years ago, I didn't want it to be the typical blog about my grief.  I wanted to document my actions in response to my grief.  Well anyway....here's the list....not in chronological order but, here are the THE THINGS I DID TO KEEP FROM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND....

1.  I let go of the small shit.
2.  I began to clean.
3.  I began digging.
4.  I began to drink.
5.  I smoked.
6.  I ran away.
7.  I deleted.
8.  I got a new kitty.
9.  I avoided people.
10.  I went back to yoga.
11.  I gave up t.v.
12.  I joined a band.
13.  I quit a band.
14.  I let go of religion.
15.  I began cooking.
16.  I did a little redecorating.
17.  I got a tattoo.
18.  I learned to fake it.
19.  I got out of the fucking house.
20.  I became a foster-baby bunny-mama.
21.  I didn't even go.
22.  I Say I-Love- you.
23.  I remained and probably became more spiritual.
24.  I did a lot--sewing, crafting...and crying.
25.  I went for it.
26.  I didn't mention it but I couldn't, and still can't sleep without holding something....a pillow...a baby.  something.
27.  I hid my pregnancy.

WOW!  That's quite a list! 

Now how do I hide this??

I began showing early and the thought of sharing the news with others that not only was I pregnant, but there were two babies, gave me GREAT anxiety.  I decided not to share my pregnancy with friends, family, and FACEBOOK because I couldn't tolerate the judgment, comments, and 'congratulations'.  I wasn't happy about the pregnancy...I wasn't happy that 7 months after losing my daughter at the very end of pregnancy and being pregnant again.  I wasn't happy about having to do this all over again with the high chance of losing my babies.  I wasn't happy...I was terrified.   I don't congratulate people for getting pregnant anymore....most people can get knocked up...birthing live and healthy babies is what should be congratulated!  So, when people happily announce their pregnancies, I initially go to a dark place....I fear for them, I shamefully, get a little jealous of them but I do wish them well.

I hid my pregnancy.  I went out and bought all the loose and oversized clothes I could find.  Thank goodness I already liked comfy and flowy clothes and I had lost quite a bit of weight...I just bought some new ones in larger sizes.  I felt a strong urge to document the pregnancy...more than I did with the others.  I just wanted proof and no regrets, should I lose the babies.

My first trimester was basically full of bloat, gas, and lots of sleep.   I gained quite a bit of weight in the beginning and did a lot of sleeping!  I'm pretty sure I was wearing maternity pants by 9-10wks.  My doctor never let more than 2-3weeks go by without visits...with ultrasounds.  I felt a tiny bit comforted with the fact that my doctors were watching me like a hawk.  In fact, when I travelled out of the state, my doctor gave me 'papers' to share with others, should I need to get treatment.

11weeks

14weeks.

I really didn't allow myself to feel anything for the babies other than, determination-- to get them here ALIVE and HEALTHY.  With every doctor visit, I prepared myself for the worst.  I wanted to see the tiny beans on the screen moving around but, I just prepared for the worst....just in case.  We had our nuchal translucency screening and  with that, I expected to be told something was wrong but nothing.  They were always perfect....so was Areila...and we know that outcome.

By 20 weeks, I could feel movement on a regular basis and that was when my anxiety REALLY hit the roof.  I quietly and internally panicked when I didn't detect movement after certain period of time.  I imagined and prepared myself to deliver dead babies.  I couldn't sleep because I was uncomfortable but mainly because there were not one, but two babies that I HAD to keep alive.  The research that I read about 'fetal demise' all said babies are most vulnerable when the mothers slept for lengthy periods of time.  I was all good in that department because sleep and I were not friends. 

The further along I got, the less I left the house.  I went to work, the doctor and occasionally to take and pick my daughter up from school and dance class.  The larger I got...the more insecure I felt.  (Since her death, I've always been insecure about being a mother who couldn't keep all her babies alive.)    I knew people would be curious enough to ask 'the questions'.  "How many children do you have or..."any day now?" or "do you know what you're having".  No matter how awkward it is...I cannot deny Areila for other's comfort and then having to speak about the two I was carrying, was too much for me.  I thought I was doing well to have avoided the comments about losing 1 and gaining 2....the "buy one get one free", and the "two for the price of one" folks.  Well, I got that lovely response from the fucking ultrasound tech.  WHAT-THE-FUCK!?

Well, only 1 person noticed that I was pregnant at work and I almost made it to the last week before she asked.  I'm quite surprised and relieved that only one person noticed and felt curious enough to inquire.  I did my best to avoid the lunch room, or sitting with the 'others', and I sat on my ass a lot.  I always hid behind a desk or counter.  My babies were 6 months old before a lot of my students even knew I was pregnant.  It makes me chuckle to think that I hid this big ass belly from so many people...

But it just pained me to be among blissfully ignorant people that had no clue about loss and grief....and LOSING A CHILD....or birthing a dead baby....or being afraid to be hopeful.  It was too much.

Last day of school.  (Don't worry, I wore a jacket over this).