30 weeks

Today we are 30 weeks pregnant.  I can't believe we have made it this far.  10 weeks more sounds like a lifetime but I know that 10 weeks would have passed very quickly for my old self.  There are things to do but I can't get my act together to do any of it.  (However, while on the topic, can someone recommend a good co-sleeper?  I am leaning towards an Arms Reach but worried that I won't be able to see Baby M over the little lip.  He's going to be sleeping in it for a while so I want to pick something practical).

I have an iphone app, I think it is called the "Pregnancy Companion".  Honestly, it is not as good as the "What to Expect" app that I used with Max but I knew that if I used that app, it would make me sad every time that I looked at it, whereas the new app brings me a little joy.  Today the status update for the baby says, "Your baby continues to grow rapidly and is able to produce tears now".  Tears.  The idea that this baby will ever have to use those tears for anything other than scraped knees or spilt milk breaks my heart.  Certainly, I have cried enough tears for a lifetime in just these last (almost) 10 months.  Nobody should have to cry tears like these.  My deepest wish for him (other than living a long and healthy life) is that he will never have anything in his life that is devastating enough to warrant the kinds of tears his momma has been crying.  My hope is that, even when he becomes a man, he will feel like he can express himself through tears if he ever (god forbid) needs to.  I was told recently that crying cleans the soul.  If that is the case, mine should be squeaky.  Sometimes I struggle with the idea of bringing more souls into this incredibly cruel world.  I try to remember however, that for many, this world is a wonderful place and I do believe that if we are so lucky as to have Baby M for our lifetimes, he will make it wonderful for us again too.

I know I just sent you to this blog a few days ago, but this is too brilliant for me to not link: http://susansobspot.blogspot.com/2012/05/you-have-made-me-hug-my-child-little.html.  
Completely brilliant!  And, yes, some days bereaved parents get ANGRY.
BECAUSE WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS! (You know?  The way you get angry about much less devastating stuff).  I have spent a lot of time feeling guilty that I sometimes say things that aren't pretty and that a couple of people remind me that I am "pushing everyone away".  But, the truth is that not everyone IS pushed away.  Some people have stuck around and perhaps those are the people that really matter anyway.  So, if you can't deal with my truth....then don't.  I feel good about being honest with myself.  I feel good that even if I piss you off, there are other bereaved parents who completely get where I am coming from.  I have certainly listened to everyone else complain about work, and their significant others, and quarrels with their friends, and business deals gone bad.  I am not sure why I was supposed to turn into a quiet and grateful saint when my child died.  I was no shrinking violet before Max died, I am not going to become one now.

Postscript: Sometimes the right person calls you at exactly the right time.  I had a really hard day yesterday.  As dark as my most dark.  Actually, I haven't left my house since Saturday.  Frankly, I have hardly left my bedroom.  I was feeling extra lonely and sad yesterday.  The world felt like it was caving in on me.  I could barely catch my breath.  It was perfect timing that my Auntie Alison called yesterday evening and let me talk and talk and talk.  And, I know that she knows that everything I am feeling is totally normal and that Max was perfect and that my heart is so broken because he is gone.  She doesn't tell me that I need to move on or that everything will be ok.  She just tells me that eventually, this won't feel exactly the same and that even if it happens ever so slowly, the deep darkness will eventually pass.  It is easy to lose sight of.  Ten months later, the only thing that has worn off is the shock.  Thank you Al.


Stacy said...

We used the Arm's Reach co-sleeper, and the side rolled down...so you could literally pull it next to your bed, roll down the side (there was something to affix it down...you roll and snap it? velcro? i so don't remember) and then the baby is right next to you...baby's mattress is right where yours is. This is the link for the one we used: http://www.amazon.com/Arms-Reach-Mini-Co-Sleeper-Bassinet/dp/B000HKY1GM/ref=sr_1_1?s=baby-products&ie=UTF8&qid=1337202206&sr=1-1

NikaM said...

I believe that we have every right to be angry, about anything and everything even remotely related to the death of our child. Just like the rest of them get angry about the stupid shit like sitting in traffic and waiting too long at Starbucks. Of course, the rest of them will never see it that way.

jkbrumbaugh@gmail.com said...

For the first 8 weeks with our girls we used the snuggle nest; I only seen it at babies R us. With Jayden we did not we used the bassinet at your level; is sold by peg pereggo and buy buy baby, with our girls we use Arms reach co sleeper. I prefer the snugle nest because it holds the baby in its own space for those 8 weeks without a problem and you can see them but you wont roll over them. It says it can be used longer but quite honestly I felt my girls were pushing themselves down. I had different applications but I had to unsubscribe to much pain but I enjoy this website: baby2see.com.

Rose said...

I used the Arm's Reach mini co-sleeper with Gracie and it was exactly what I wanted. I got the risers that brought it up to level with our mattress (her mattress was very slightly lower) and attached it so our heads were even. I could see her well, if her head was turned I had to peek over a teeny bit, but I could easily touch her body, hear her, etc. She never had to cry to nurse at night because I heard her move right away when she woke up. I used it for longer than expected because of her illness and it was such a comfort to both of us. Changing the subject, I cannot tell you how much I admire your honesty and your willingness to write about what so many people won't or can't think about or feel. I love you, and I deeply respect you as a mother, a human being and a friend.