Here are some highlights of what I would like to say:
Think about what you say before you say it to me.
Don't tell everyone that you don't know what to say - because you DO know what to say - you are just too uncomfortable to say it. (Refresher - you could say "I am so sorry that you lost Max. Having to live without him is terrible. It is so unfair that this happened to you, to him! He was a beautiful boy." Should I go on? You KNOW those are the right things to say...so STOP saying you don't know what to say. STOP IT)
And, you other people - stop defending the people who "don't know what to say", because they DO know what to say.
And, you OTHER people - the story of when your kid almost died, or your fear that he may someday die, or the idea that you may die......ENOUGH. My BABY DID die! Don't tell me that you couldn't go on if it happened to you. You know that I have no choice. BE SENSITIVE! How else can I say it. Think before you speak.
It is not my job to just absorb all of this. I am having a hard enough time absorbing that Max died. Oh my god - I miss him so much. I can hardly catch my breath....I miss him SO much. His little face pops up in my head all day and all night. God! I loved him. IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!!!!!!!!
Be nice to me! Lower your expectations of me. I LOST MY BABY!!!!!!
Especially if you are someone whose role in life is to love me unconditionally. Try to actually love me unconditionally. I don't have the energy to do that for you if you aren't doing it for me.
Stop asking me if I am "able to connect to Mo". Yes, I am able to connect to Mo! I am obsessed with Mo. I love him wildly and madly. I am not a monster....I am a loving mother. My boys are everything to me.
I don't know....I can't eloquently string my words together today in any way that is coherent and interesting. I feel so beaten up (so beaten up by people who see themselves as beaten up by me...so go figure).
I am tired and sad and devastated.
I am just so tired of the whole thing...I am SO DAMNED TIRED OF IT ALL!
3 comments
My heart is literally aching for you. No words just a big *hug*
I'm sorry, Abby. Thinking of you. xxxooo
Oh Abby - if you didn't live somewhere so darned inconvenient I would be on the doorstep with a coffee and walnut cake to give you a big hug. I get it. I remember feeling like this. People would say.. oh, you have a new baby... as though that was a big factor in my emotional well-being... and I would stare at them, dumb-founded. My daughter died. It was like they had forgotten.
A year down the line, I think it is gradually sinking in that people really don't get it. They don't know what to say. Or I am accepting that they going to be crap, and any amount of anguished pleading, screaming or howling at them on my part makes not a jot of difference. I don't really understand why they can't do it. I suppose It is just that the experience of losing a child isn't accessible to them - they really can't imagine it. I am pretty sure - would bet my bottom dollar - that most people you know aren't thinking - poor Abby, she lost her baby - they are thinking - wow, they have a lovely new baby Mo - that must make her happy.
I suppose the bottom line is that no one is effected by the death of our children as much as us. Other people always seem to be racing ahead from where I'm at in my grief. Of course you are happy Mo is here, and you take great joy in him... they just can't take on board how deep your continuing grief is. This is a huge period of adjustment for you and your husband - now that the first year is up, and Mo is here, other people will rush into thinking normal service is reassumed - and that your raw pain is over. In reality, this second year is painful too - you will need to decide how your new family is going to work - how to tackle family celebrations, religious festivities etc. And all the while, people around you will now be assuming that you're having a whale of a time, and nothing is difficult about it.
Just know you can do this xx
PS As you are feeling tired - not sure how practical this is - but I found going to a country for a week where I didn't speak the language very helpful when I was in your place. We went to Italy - Rome and the mountains and the Amalfi Coast - the Italians love babies - so that was great - but what was wonderful was, my Italian extends to thank you, goodbye and the like. No one could really ask us questions. It was warm and restful. Everyone smiled at us, and told us Madeleine was bella bella. It felt so good to be in the sunshine, surrounded by happy, accepting people, and there were no possiblity of being intruded upon. Just a thought x
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