Living with the loss of stillbirth and learning to live in the sunshine of our new normal.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

I'm not a good single mom. I don't know how people do it alone. Mike's only gone for a couple of days, and I just want to stay in bed and sleep.
I guess there are several factors at work here. My anxiety is bordering on depression. This is the worst I have felt in over a year. If I hadn't promised Sophia the zoo today, I would have stayed in bed. Or on the couch, so I could pretend I was watching her. Even the drive to the zoo was exhausting for me. I felt like hiding from the sky itself. Once we got there, I perked up enough to watch her run and play, and to laugh with her, and to protect her from the attacking turkeys. I think as long as I have something to focus on, I don't get too strangled by myself. Being at work for 11 hours keeps me busy enough that I can't think about how much I hate working full time. But as soon as I leave, I want to crawl into a hole and never go back. Sophia asked me if I live at work now. She cries if it's Mike's turn to put her to bed. She asks me to snuggle her 10x a day (But can only sit still for about 2 minutes of snuggle time.) She hates it, too. And when I'm home, I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm sad.
So last night I decided it wasn't working for me anymore. I pulled out my Celexa and I took 1/2 a dose. I'll work my way up again. I want to sleep at night. I want to spend time with my family without being distracted by my crazy. I want to enjoy spring and summer without being exhausted by life.
Like I said, I know that a variety of things helped to bury me this week. Mike's uncle Howie passed away and Sophia and I couldn't make it to the funeral. Even being thousands of miles away, I can feel the loss. I am grieving for his wife, and his kids, and his grandkids. I am at a loss for words at how desperate they must feel. He was a good man, and he will be missed.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Kelly Clarkson Sober (video)



I heard this song 3 months after we lost her. I had just found out we were going to have Sophia. I knew it would either save me or kill me. "Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in. But I know it's never really over."
March 22, 2007 was the third day of Spring. It was my due date with Charlotte. It was the night I instead went to dinner with my friends, the first time other than the funeral (and the casket-purchasing trip) that I had gone out of the house.
Tonight I turned on my iPod so I could use it while I walked on the treadmill. I decided to revisit my old playlists (I don't use my iPod much anymore.) Of course I decided I had to listen to some of Charlotte's songs. Her playlist is called "My Little Star". These are her songs.

1. Charlotte Sometimes- The Cure 2. Thinking about You- Norah Jones 3. Somewhere Over The Rainbow- Isreal Kamakawiwo'ole 4. 1,000 Oceans- Tori Amos 5. Love You Lately- Daniel Powter 6. Hear You Me- Jimmy Eat World 7. Starlight- Muse 8. Hello, I Love You- The Doors 9. Slipped Away- Avril Lavigne 10. Sober- Kelly Clarkson 11. I Don't Wanna Talk About It- Indigo Girls 12. I Grieve- Pete Gabriel 13. Overkill- Colin Hay (acoustic version) 14. God Only Knows- The Beach Boys 15. One Sweet Day- Mariah Carey+ Boyz II Men 17. Fireflies- Faith Hill 18. Better Together- Jack Johnson 19. Sexyback- Justin Timberlake 20. Brown Eyed Girl-Van Morrison 21. The Prayer- Josh Groban and Charlotte Church 22. Playboy Mommy- Tori Amos 23. Maps- The Yeah Yeah Yeahs 24. Far Away- Nickelback 25. Who You'd Be Today- Kenny Chesney 26. Angel Mine- Cowboy Junkies 27. Adia- Sarah McLachlan 28. Move Along- The All-American Rejects 29. For Good (from Wicked)

Obviously, there are a couple of strange choices. But they all have a story, or an obvious meaning. I don't know if I've ever told anyone the story behind Starlight. You'd think it's clear, but there is a story. I just don't want to talk about it tonight. One of the darker days of After. And one of the few I remember clearly.

Today I noticed a purple crocus in my front yard. I don't know how long it's been there. I don't remember it being there last year. It's droopy and sad because it snowed again last night. But it's there.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

For her last two birthdays, I have rebounded quickly from the tower of anguish that the memory of losing Charlotte brought. This year it's lingering. Very sneakily, it attacks me when I don't expect it. A song, a street name, the picture of a little girl on one of Sophia's books. For the first time, an old episode of Sex And The City made me cringe whenever "Charlotte's" name was said. I feel as though I am stuck in a hole. It's not deep, but it's dark and filled with anger. I climb out but keep tripping into it again.
I will admit that I have spent a lot of this year being very angry. And I know that some of the reason behind it is that I am not taking my anxiety pills, but the rest of it is that I am just letting myself be angry. The unfortunate thing is that I have no idea why I am so angry. It seems to be centered at the wind. I don't know where it came from or where it's going next.
Today I was thinking about the nurses that helped us with Charlotte. I have their names written down somewhere, and sometimes I think about sending a letter to them. They were amazing. The one I thought of today lived close to us. She tried to describe where she lived (it was about 4 blocks away but that's all I remember). She was trying to make small talk and if I remember right, I did a pretty good job of responding. I don't know what brought her to mind, but I wonder if she went home that night and held her children extra close. Sometimes I wonder about the delivery nurse, who cried when Charlotte was delivered. She bathed her for us, and she wept for our daughter. I remember wondering if she would get in trouble for that, if her bosses would think it was "unprofessional", but it was the most human thing in the world, and I was so thankful that she showed us how she felt.
I'm glad that Spring is soon. Daylight Savings has me feeling a little bit lighter. The sunshine helps, but it's not enough. I have to keep looking for something to help me feel more sane.