Moving Forward

October 3, 2010

I wasn't sure how the SIDS blog would evolve or how people would take it, but so far so good.

I am going to try to go to counseling one day next week but I don't have a lot of expectations for it and if I don't get a good rapport with the counselor then I won't be returning. Many counselors that work at a lot of the places around here that take Medicaid are as educated as I am an in some cases, less. Some of them simply have degrees in Psychology. I could just imagine going to someone like Lynn. Although I see the benefits of talking to an outside person, I'm just worried that I am going to take everything they say with a grain of salt and go in there with a know it all attitude.

I did call the SIDS Alliance, like I said in my last post, to no avail. The closest Compassionate Friends meeting is in Frankfort.

In other sad news, another baby here in our own of 2,000 died last week. He was 8 weeks old. Supposedly, only 2200 babies die a year of SIDS. Why is Irvine being hit so hard. The story there is that the mother was breastfeeding and fell asleep. Her breast apparently cut off air supply to the infant. She is an understandable mess.

I realize now that I might ever have been helpful to anyone needing advice because the advice that has been given to me for the most part has really sucked. I finally met someone (well, I already knew them) and we spent Friday talking back and forth via FB about our different situations. Well, they weren't that different really. She lost hers at 10 weeks. I think about that in terms of Sam Time. At 10 weeks Pete was back in England for immigration stuff. That would have been like him dying while Pete was gone. Terrible. He was already an integral part of our life at that point.

Pete's sister wrote him a text and asked him how he coped when people told him that he needed to move on with his life. I can't remember what he wrote back but I know what I would have said. I would have told them to fuck off, only I would have done it publicly, in my blog, and stirred up all kinds of trouble in the process. But I would have worried about that later.

Seriously, a week after Toby died a friend of mine asked me if I was still crying everyday and then gave me a big spiel about her health problems. You know something? I'm not even sure what went on that week. Aside from the anxiety medication they gave me, I was in shock. I didn't care about her damn problems. She might as well have been speaking Greek to me. There is no time limit on these things. I feel guilty because everyone else around me seems to be doing pretty well and adjusting okay and I am the one still falling apart. That makes me feel pushed to get better soon, only I know that the only person doing the pushing is me.

I found out today that the couple who owns this house had a stillborn baby here on July 5^th. Of course, that was 10 years ago, but that was the day that Toby was born. How ironic is that? A woman that read one of my dreams said that Toby Is going to send me a new baby and that the day that he's born on will be significant to Toby, either his birthday, expected delivery day, or his death. That's pretty detailed. We will see.