Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Bitter


November 23, 2010

Feeling a little bit bitter tonight. I got two different sets of news over the weekend and while one should have been happy and the other a relief, they both brought me down since they came at the same time and one more or less competes with the other. I keep getting faced with really tough situations and choices and it seems like I can’t win either way.

The doctors finally figured out what’s wrong with me and scheduled me for surgery to fix it, only now I can’t have it. I can have it eventually, but to do it now would really jeopardize my health so I have to wait and just keep taking pain medication. How long is this going to last? A week, a month, two months, a year…who knows.

I was thinking back about being pregnant with Toby and how alone and isolated I felt and now I am feeling that way again. It’s not a nice feeling. A couple of days after Toby died my doctor gave me some anxiety meds and said that for the first couple of weeks people would come around and be helpful but that eventually that would end and that’s when I would need medication and counseling. I couldn’t imagine her being right, considering how many people were around at the time, but she was. We rarely get invited anywhere. Mostly, we do the asking. Melissa and Karen stop by to visit sometimes and that’s nice. But for the most part the e-mails, texts, and messages have stopped. People move on. Nobody wants to be around us. We’re depressing, even when we’re not depressed, and besides that people have their own lives. It’s hard to find fault in that. But even if you do understand it, it doesn’t change the fact that you feel lonely.

I tried to talk to a friend the other night about the news I got and how upset I was and they completely cut me off and changed the subject. Nice. I understand that in the past year it’s been one thing after another with us and that I might sound like I’m being a drama queen, but I’m not making this stuff up and I’m not causing it to happen. And yet, I constantly feel like I am. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that when Simon said that “all these people” had a problem with me he was really just referring to him and his girlfriend. (And their other two friends with whom I have exchanged exactly 23 words with in the past. Four of those being “Where is your bathroom?”) What I SHOULD have said back to him was something like, “Yeah, well, you’re talking about 4 people. You want to know how many people around here have a problem with YOU right now? A lot more than 4.” I hate hindsight.

Anyway, sometimes it does feel like people are angry at us or upset with us because this crap keeps happening. I even apologized to the doctor today and she looked at me like I was crazy.I start thinking about things too, like were we not thankful enough to people? Did we act unappreciative? Should I not have talked about Toby? Did our friends have to do too much that week that he died and now they resent it? I mean, we must have done SOMETHING. That's what I think sometimes, anyway.

It’s just been a sucky year. I had to cancel my 30th birthday party due to lack of interest (although the dinner I had with 4 close friends was probably a lot better than a party would have been AND we got to eat at the Melting Pot) and I had to throw myself my own baby shower. It was kind of all downhill from there.

I’m reading over this and it sounds depressing. I don’t actually feel depressed right now. Just sad. I jumped onto Robbie yesterday because when I told her about the news that I got she told me everything would be “fine.” People told me that all last year and nothing was fine. When the most positive thing that you can get out of a pregnancy is that your son was able to live 6 weeks instead of dying at birth, that is far from fine. I want to be positive, but it’s hard. I heard that I would be “fine” when I had the headache that lasted for two weeks. (It turned out to be the preeclampsia.) I heard that I would be “fine” when I complained about the pain in my abdomen. (It was the placenta abruption.) I heard that Toby would be “fine” when I was concerned about his breathing and the tremors he was having. None of that was fine. I don’t want to be mean, but being positive is very, very difficult.

I keep thinking that things have to get better, but every time I think that they just seem to get a little bit worse.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Karen's Entry

I post so much of my own stuff, I thought I would post Karen's blog entry regarding the day that Toby died. She was in the hospital with us and spent most of the day with us.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Toby

On Friday I went to see Rebecca and Toby. She looked better than I expected. I thought she'd be more stressed, but she was okay. Shaky, but okay. He was snuggled up on the couch next to her, just looking at her face that way that babies sometimes look at their moms. Every now and then he would smile at her. A big beautiful smile that was pure joy. And when she talked to me, she didn't look at me, she looked at him.

She told me about how she'd been having panic attacks, how sometimes she lost track of time and did the same things over and over. She had some medicine that helped, but she didn't want to take it when she was home alone with him because it knocked her out. I told her it would get better. I said that anyone who had been through what she'd been through would be having trouble.

She said the doctors didn't think she had postpartum depression. They thought she had post traumatic stress disorder. She'd had such a rough pregnancy and then when she started bleeding so heavily they thought that she was dying, that Toby was dying. If she'd been home alone she probably would have died. If she'd bled into her body cavity instead of outward, Toby would have died.

He got a little fussy and I asked if I could hold him. I burped him and fed him a bottle. Then I patted his back and sang him a lullaby. He fell asleep against my shoulder and I kept kissing the back of his head. His hair was so soft against my lips.

I held him for a long time while he slept. Rebecca and I talked, not about anything in particular but just talking and passing the time. Then I had to lay him down again so that I could leave to pick up Zoe from school. I laid him down next to Rebecca and kissed her head and covered her legs in a blanket. Then I left.

Saturday morning the phone rang. It was Rebecca's mom Brenda and as I walked to the phone I couldn't understand why she'd be calling. She told me they'd lost Toby. It didn't make any sense at first. It was like random words had been put together. Then all of the sudden I understood.

When I got to the hospital I saw Brenda and Sam. She told me that Pete and Rebecca were in with Toby and that if I was allowed to go back, she thought they'd want me there.

I wish I had words to tell you. I wish I didn't. I don't think anyone should ever have to know that story. It should be as nonsensical as it seemed when Brenda said they'd lost him.

I should have reached out to them first. I didn't. I went to Toby and smoothed his hair. Why would I go to comfort him when he couldn't feel it? Why didn't I go straight to them when they could? His hair felt exactly the same as it had the day before. But this time, his head was cold.

Pete was crying and rocking back and forth. I could hear him praying under his breath, "Please don't let it be real. Please don't let it be real. Please don't let it be real."

Rebecca looked like the walking dead. There was no recognition in her eyes. When I hugged her, she made a little low moan that reminded me of the sound puppies make when they are dying but are still trying to wag their tails. I told them both that Toby is okay. We are not. But he is.

We sat and looked at him for a while, all of us together, but each in our own heads. I find myself watching to see if he's breathing. He's not.

His face looks bruised on one side where the blood has pooled. The other side looks too pale. But his head is turned to the side so the color changes from pale to dark across his face. One eyelid looks exactly like it did the day before. He still had the breathing tube in his mouth and tape across his face to hold it in place. I want to take the tape off but I'm afraid of damaging his skin. I don't touch it.

A man came to talk to them about donating Toby's organs. Rebecca went with him to fill out the papers. I stayed with Pete and Toby. Maybe I should have been with Rebecca. Didn't she need a friend there? But that would have left Pete alone with Toby and I know that Pete can't be alone now. He's not okay. Rebecca has the organ donation man with her. She's not alone. Pete would be alone. I stayed with Pete.

Pete thinks this was his fault. Toby died when they were asleep together.

How can he think that? I've laid down with my children more times than I can count. I've fallen asleep cuddling a baby so often that in my mind it's all blurred into one memory of sleep and warmth. Bad parents hurt their children. Good parents cuddle them. How can cuddling them be bad?

Pete hovers between wanting to hold him and not wanting to disturb him. He uncovers Toby, then covers him back up. His hands go to him and pull back. He smooths his hair. He said that Sam wanted to play with him. Now Sam won't get to. He tells me he's a bad father. I try to tell him he's not but I don't think he believes me.

Pete says something about Toby's red hair. I think, 'He had beautiful hair.' Then I realized that I just thought of Toby in the past tense. He's right in front of me and his hair is still beautiful. But I know then that he's really gone. I can't make myself think 'He HAS beautiful hair.' It just won't work that way in my head.

When Rebecca comes back in the room, she tells us they think they can use Toby's heart. Pete starts crying again. He looks as if his own heart has been ripped out of his chest. For just a moment, Rebecca looks like herself again. She seems alive again. She says, "But this way they can save someone else's baby." Then before the last word is even fully out she's gone again, off into her mind. Pete can't speak. He knows. We all know. This can't happen again. This can't happen to someone else. But why couldn't it have not happened to us?

Monday, November 15, 2010

Let's Talk About...Placenta Abruption


November 15, 2010

Let’s talk about placenta abruption. Yes, I know, a fun topic for everyone. I just found out that a baby that survives a placenta abruption has a 40-50% chance of developing complications later on. (Not a great link to SIDS, but I have found several cases where the SIDS baby was born out of placenta abruption like Toby was.)

My OBGYN said that it was “good” that I hemorrhaged because in many cases the bleeding is internal and the woman never knew that it happened. He said that if I hadn’t bled outwardly then I would have arrived at the hospital with a “dead baby.” Oh, how wrong he was. In fact, if I had gone one more day with the pain and symptoms that I was having I was going to check myself into a hospital anyway. One that he didn’t have privileges in, such as the one that I gave birth in. You can be assured, as well, that had I arrived at the hospital with a “dead baby” he would have been one “dead doctor” and there would have been a couple of “dead midwives.” Okay, that might be extreme but by the time I finished going psycho on their asses they might wish that they were.

My aim with this blog, along with general bitching and moaning and groaning, is to help educate people who might have gone through the same thing or are going through the same thing so I like to add some factual things now and then.

At any rate, here is some medical information concerning this…


Definition

Placental abruption occurs when the placenta separates from the uterus before the fetus is delivered. The placenta is the organ that provides nourishment for the fetus while it is still in the uterus. In a healthy pregnancy, the placenta remains attached to the uterine wall until after the fetus is delivered.
Some form of the condition affects about one in every 150 births. In very severe forms, placental abruption can cause death to the fetus. This occurs in approximately one in every 500-750 deliveries. Death of the mother from placental abruption is very rare. Infants who survive a birth with the condition have a 40%-50% chance of experiencing complications.
Placental abruption can cause:
  • Premature delivery (Yes, 4 weeks early in my case, although my friend Chasity states that she didn’t even realize that he was early since it felt as though I’d already had the longest pregnancy ever.)
  • Low birth weight (Him or me? I weighed about the same as I did when I got pregnant, thanks to the hyperemsis, once I got rid of all the excess fluid that I was retaining. He weighed a healthy 6 pounds.)
  • Significant blood loss for the mother (Yes. The blood transfusion helped me get that back, though.)

Causes

The cause of placental abruption is often difficult to diagnose. Some common causes of the condition include:
  • Injury to the abdomen from an accident or a fall (I think we can safely rule this out…)
  • Sudden decrease in the volume of the uterus, from significant loss of amniotic fluid or from the delivery of a first twin
  • Abnormally short umbilical cord
  • Acute development of high blood pressure (often associated with cocaine use ) Because we all know about my coke addiction!!!

Risk Factors

A risk factor is something that increases your chance of getting a disease or condition. The following factors increase your chance of developing placental abruption:
  • Previous placental abruption in a prior pregnancy
  • High blood pressure during pregnancy (Hmmmm….they claim that my blood pressure was not “high.” Yet I still maintain that it was high for ME. I usually run very low so in the last week when it was elevated it might have been considered “normal” for them, but it wasn’t necessarily my normal. Be vigilant about this, ladies, and always ask what your blood pressure is when they take it. Write it down, too, and keep your own records.
  • Pregnancy during older age (Does it count if you FEEL old?)
  • Multiple previous deliveries (Well, I feel like I’ve had a lot, but I guess that’s not what they mean. I’m no Duggar.)
  • Excessively distended uterus (Actually, this is the first time that I’ve come across this. My uterus IS distended from the adenyomiosis. I asked the doc before I got pregnant if this would be an issue. He said no.)
  • Diabetes (I’m waiting my turn since both my parents and grandparents have/had it, but I’m not there yet. Mine runs low.)
  • Drug use (cocaine)
  • Smoking during pregnancy (I smoked. Once. In 2005 with a couple of Polish girls in New Hampshire. Afterwards, I was thrown headfirst, fully clothed into a lake. I wasn’t impressed with either activity.)
  • Alcohol abuse during pregnancy (We all know about my alcohol addiction…I highly doubt that one bourbon ball during Christmas sent me over the edge.)

So the moral of this is, I had none of the risk factors except for the distended uterus and even that is up for debate. Oh, and the blood pressure.

Symptoms

In the early stages, you may not have symptoms. When symptoms occur, they may include:
  • Vaginal bleeding (Uh, yeah…How about a bloody waterfall?)
  • Abdominal pain (For several days leading up to the vaginal bleeding.)
  • Back pain (Definitely. In fact, I even paid a visit to my neurologist who laughed me off and told me that in several weeks I would give birth and it would be fine.)
  • Rapid contractions (So much so that I sweated through two sets of sheets-ours and Mom’s. When I finally went into labor, after the hemorrhaging, the contractions started at 2 minutes apart.)
  • Soreness in the uterus (It all felt sore to me.)

If you have had a placental abruption then your chances of getting it again are about 10%. 

What does this mean for SIDS babies, and does it mean anything at all? According to research here, it (along with placenta previa) might have some bearing on it. 

"
Therefore, placenta
previa not only results in the reduced supply of
oxygen and nutrients to the fetus due to decreased placental
surface area, suboptimal uterine location, and
bleeding, but the presence of the condition also indicates
reduced uteroplacental oxygen and delivery of
nutrients (10). In the case of placental abruption, the
premature separation of the normally implanted placenta
will result in a decreased surface area for maternalfetal
blood exchange, thus leading to a reduced supply
of oxygen and essential nutrients. It is obvious that
both placental abruption and placenta previa could
result in or indicate a reduced supply of oxygen and
essential nutrients to the fetus. Although placental
abruption may result in acute fetal hypoxia compared
with placenta previa which more likely leads to chronic
fetal hypoxia, the effect of fetal hypoxia on fetal development,
especially on the neurologic system, in terms
of duration and intensity is not well understood (13, 16,
17). It is possible that both severe hypoxia for short
duration and chronic mild hypoxia can result in fetal
maldevelopment.

Depending on the severity of the placental abnormalities,
various damages to fetal development including
death may occur (12, 13, 18, 19). Although the
exact types of damages to live births by the placental
abnormalities during pregnancy are not well documented,
the central nervous system is probably a
potential target because of the effect of fetal hypoxia
(13, 18). A defective cardiorespiratory control system
in the brainstem has been hypothesized to be involved
in the etiology of SIDS (20-25). Therefore, it is conceivable
that some of the neurologic damage could be
severe enough, though not detectable by autopsy, to
result in SIDS when extraneous risk factors such as
prone sleeping position are present. Although the incidence
of placental abruption and placenta previa is
low, understanding the association of placental abnormality
and the risk of SIDS may enhance our knowledge
of the role of the placenta in determining the risk
of SIDS as well as other adverse pregnancy outcomes."

Rebecca’s unprofessional opinion:

If you feel like something is wrong and you are in pain, have increased swelling, or just feel like something’s off then get ye to the doctor. An ultrasound can often spot a placenta abruption before it get bad. You might get put on bedrest or you might deliver, depending on how bad it is.

Your insurance won’t cover an additional ultrasound or your doctor doesn’t think you need one? Yeah, mine was like that, too. Here is what I learned…They will almost ALWAYS give you an ultrasound if you tell them that you are bleeding-even if you’re only spotting.

Use that information as you wish.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Weekend


Sam is watching cartoons and Pete is lying on the couch, reading, and I’m in the mood to talk. Not like a deep conversation, but I’m feeling restless. They’re both busy, though, and not in the mood for my chatter so I figured I would just write a blog entry.

Pete and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary on Thursday. Five years. The time has just flown by. I made a dinner Thursday night to celebrate and it was pretty good. I’ve felt rotten the past week and haven’t cooked at all so it was nice to get back in the kitchen.

Mom went to Indiana this weekend so it’s just been me and the boys. We’ve had a good time. On Friday we ordered a pizza and watched movies. Sam rented “How to Train Your Dragon” and “Tom and Jerry Meet Sherlock Holmes.” It’s pretty awesome that Sam can watch “A Nightmare on Elm Street” and not flinch but the dragon freaked him out. As a matter of fact, when we started watching the movie that Pete and I rented (okay, I rented) the new “Nightmare on Elm Street was previewed and Sam shouted, “Hey! That’s the same bad guy from the scary school bus movie!” (That would be “A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2” for all of you non-Freddy lovers.) But every time that black dragon would appear on screen he would cover his eyes.

Friday was a little rough for me during the day. That pain is getting worse and worse and I was supposed to go to the hospital to have X-rays and ultrasounds run but I could not get the motivation to go. The last time I was there was when Toby died and the two times before that he was with me. (Including in the X-ray room where one of the technicians held him and fed him.) The Irvine hospital is small, too, (only one hallway) so it’s not like I would even be in another area of it. On Friday I couldn’t even make it off the porch. I haven’t been able to look at it when we drive by and the thought of actually going inside was awful. I’ll take Sam with me tomorrow, though. Keeping my eye on him might distract me.

Saturday morning was a little rough. We had the Kentucky Book Fair to go to in Frankfort. The last time I woke everyone up on a Saturday morning to go to a literary event in Frankfort (to see some of the same people) was the morning that I found Toby dead. It was total déjà vu. Pete got up before me, though, and raked all the leaves in the back yard, transported them to the front yard, and made this gigantic heart out of them so that I could see it from the computer in our office upstairs.

On our way to the book fair we stopped at Wallace Station in Frankfort and ate lunch. It was a gorgeous day and we were able to eat outside where Sam fed a huge orange cat pieces of our sandwiches. He also enjoyed driving over the train tracks in Midway. With the leaves blowing around and the houses decorated for fall it was just a pretty as any New England scene and I was glad that we had gotten out for the day.

The book fair was a lot of fun, but by that time we were pretty tired. It was the first time that I had seen some of the people since LMU and that was a little strange. Of course, I was definitely glad to see them, but it’s really difficult to see people that you haven’t seen for awhile, especially when the last time you saw them was when you were pregnant or when your child was alive. Everyone was incredibly nice, though, and that helped-although it did make me sad.

It’s also strange that some people that I don’t really even know that well, like author George Ella Lyon, know about Toby. Or when I was talking to Kate Larken and I told her that Pete and I would really like to come to the next retreat but that since it was going to be back in Ohio we couldn’t do it. She understood and said that it was going to be hard on a lot of people. I am constantly reminded how much Toby’s life and death didn’t just affect us, but has affected many people. I’m not happy about this because I don’t want people to feel sad, but in another way I am glad about it because I don’t want him to be forgotten.

Regarding Pete’s dad, Pete’s brother-in-law snapped at me and asked, “Did you ever stop to think that the first time he saw his grandchild was in a casket?” And truthfully, no, I didn’t. I was too busy thinking “that’s my child in a casket.” My own dad never even met him. In fact, the majority of the people at the funeral had never met him or held him and that was the first time they had seen him. I worried about me, about Pete, about Sam (who watched his little brother, already turning blue, being carried out of the house while his father stood there and screamed), and my own mother who valiantly tried to give him CPR until the paramedics arrived. I also worried about Karen and Ashley who sat in the ER room with us and Toby, even after levidity had settled in and his normally pink, beautiful skin started turning blue and purple. I worried about these people. And that’s about all the room I had. I’m sorry if that makes me a bad person, but there it is.

I am still being blamed for Pete not going to his mom’s funeral in England. Despite the fact that I researched the tickets, booked the ticket, booked his car rental, and contacted all of his friends over there to see if they could be there to support him, his dad told him that he and I’d had a “disagreement” because I “hadn’t sent him to England.” What else could I have done? How rude to me. How rude to Pete. As if Pete doesn’t have a mind of his own and can’t make his own decisions.

It’s amazing how you can think that someone plays such an integral role in your life and then once they are gone you don’t even notice anything missing. I noticed this about my best friend, whom I haven’t seen in three years. (I should really stop calling her that.) I thought the world would crash once she got married and stopped coming around, but nothing really changed at all. We don’t notice a difference, either, with Pete’s friends in England who have gone haywire and acted like idiots. There is no noticeable difference with them being out of our lives, except for the lack of stress that they were causing. That’s really sad. It’s a similar thing with family.

On the other hand, Sam helped me make scrambled eggs, pancakes, sausage links, and biscuits this morning and I really missed Toby. I was looking forward to making brownies and cakes with both of my boys and even though I never got the chance to with Toby, I feel that loss a lot. I miss Nana every single day and still cry, even though it’s been 23 years,  and I miss my cousins Nick and Eric whom I never get to see, yet I haven’t seen my own sister since my niece died in a car wreck in 2004 and I don’t feel any great loss there. (We’d only met each other a handful of times before then.)

I was talking to another friend earlier in the week and we were discussing the fact that there are some people in our lives that we try to turn to when we’re feeling bad or having a bad moment and they just don’t want to hear it. They change the subject and inevitably it always comes back down to them and how they have experienced the same thing. While you might only be able to get a sentence in here and there, they completely dominate the conversation and write paragraphs to you about their own crap, or take over the phone conversation-whatever the case may be. It’s frustrating and not helpful at all, and sometimes their lack of consideration even makes the situation worse. But then I told my friend about this article that I had read that talked about one of the problems we have with friendships is that we want everyone that we are friends with to fulfill the same needs. We want to be able to go to the movies with all of our friends, tell our problems to all of our friends, and lean on them when we have to. But not all friendships have to be like that. It’s okay to have “hang out” friends and “lean on friends” and even “drinking friends.” If we stop trying to make the friendship something it’s not then it might not be so stressful.

I have a friendship like this. I keep trying to make it something that it’s not. They are a very nice person, but I can’t talk to them. As soon as I get a sentence out, well, that’s the last sentence I ever get out. After that, it’s all about them. They’re also constantly bragging about how talented they are, how important their job is, how much they work, and how well-known they are. It’s very annoying. In the past, I might have cut that person off and stopped the friendship. Now, though, I’m trying to appreciate their other virtues and overlook some of the things that drive me crazy. Because there are other virtues and they usually outweigh the negative aspects that threaten to drive me insane.

Still, there are some people that I never want to see or hear from again. Those doors are closed and that’s that.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Support


November 5, 2010

Toby would have been 4 months old today. 

Yesterday, we got a card in the mail from people that we only met once and barely know. It made my week. Not only was it a thoughtful gesture, but it reminded me again of how supportive people have been. Yet, it was also a reminder that it’s been the people that we didn’t necessarily expect to be supportive that have almost been the most so.

In the past few months, we have received so many cards, letters, e-mails, and comments from people that we met only once or only a couple of times. Actually, we got a donation for Toby’s tombstone from someone whom I have NEVER met and that was completely unexpected. People that I hadn’t seen in years stepped up and did things that were so above and beyond the call of friendship that it’s almost overwhelming. My friend Melissa, for instance, has a child at home with cerebral palsy, yet she had a yard sale for us to raise money for the grave, took me to get my hair done (for free), and writes to me almost every day to make sure I’m okay. I hadn’t seen her since high school-15 years ago!

My ex-boyfiend’s wife has also written me numerous times and even sent a gift for Sam. And let’s face it; I’ve said some crappy things about him in the past. Still, she completely ignored that and disregarded it and still tried to support me. (Talk about ME feeling subdued…) I got one e-mail from her that was so nice that I even felt slightly ashamed for all of the bad thoughts of revenge that I had on him years ago.

I think she gets it, though. Sometimes, things are bigger than the petty arguments and crap that we have and feel. I like to think that if there was someone in my life that needed help I would be there for them, no matter what had happened in the past.

Pete and I were talking last night about people getting insulted by little things that we did, like when we had houseguests and I came upstairs for an hour because after having a Halloween party at the house I needed some time to myself. (That’s the most people I had been around since the funeral and I thought I did pretty well.) Yet, after Toby died Karen, Melissa, Angelina, Becca, Desha, and Chasity were all here at different times and stayed at my house while I SLEPT. Talk about being a bad hostess. And not once did they complain. Or, if they did, I never heard about it. The day that Toby died, Becca and Rob came over to the house while we were still at the hospital and stayed outside for 3 hours…in the rain, waiting for us to come home. Then, of course, there’s the fact that Becca basically took off a week from her life and took care of us.

My Uncle Ray and Aunt Fran drove from Texas to get here, but along the way Aunt Fran got sick and they had to turn around and go back and take her to the E.R. They were going to just stay there, but Aunt Fran wanted to come on up so they came on-from the hospital! That’s almost a 16 hour drive one way, and they had just done it the week before for Will’s wedding. Will and his new wife, Kim, came 4 hours from Nashville and they had only been married for a week and she’d just had back surgery and had to cancel their honeymoon.

So yeah, for the most part people have been very supportive. I sat down yesterday and read through all of the comments and things that people had written when he died. I copied them and saved them to a file as I got them because I knew one day I would want to re-read them again. It amazed me as I read through them how much his death affected people and kind of fanned out. Some of the comments were sent directly to me and Pete. Others were not. For instance, my friend Barbi posted about his death in her status update and then had several friends (people that I don’t know) comment about it, sending their condolences and asking that messages be passed onto me. The same thing happened with other friends. He had such a short life, but his death affected lots of people and that makes me feel good. It makes me feel good that he was KNOWN, if that makes sense.

Sometimes, you step back and look at yourself and wonder how much can really happen in a month or in a week. An entire lifetime was lived in just 6 weeks. It makes you very aware of time.

I told Pete’s friend that I didn’t want to go back to being the person that I was before Toby died and he seemed to take offense to this. But it’s true. I want to appreciate things more, to stand up for myself more (no more being pushed around by doctors), and to take control of situations more. I also want to enjoy things a lot more. During the time that it was going on, I had no idea that for 6 weeks my life was perfect. I had my 3 boys and we were doing great. Instead, I worried about not getting enough sleep, not being able to get my work done, and Sam’s acting out. (And I know that some of that was the PTSD so I try to give myself some leeway, too.)

I look back on that last really great memory that I have of the 4 of us. We were at Cracker Barrel somewhere around Bowling Green off the Interstate. Toby was asleep and I had just bought Sam a little toy dog that barked. It was the last of the yard sale money and I was afraid that we would need it for gas, but he wanted that dog really badly. So I bought it for him and he sat at the table and played with it while he ate his grilled cheese. He talked to it and hugged it and kept asking me to take their picture. Whenever Toby would squirm, Sam would cover him up with his blanket and “pet” his head. People around us were looking at us and smiling. After we ate, we went to a huge camping store. Pete took Toby and Sam and I went out onto the patio and sat in all of the boats and then played “The Three Little Pigs” in all of the tents. We found a tent that was big enough for the four of us and Sam picked out the four places that we would each sleep. He said that Toby could sleep with him so that he could tell him stories. I didn’t know that in a week, he would already be buried.

Unfortunately, the rest of that week went by in a blur and the next real memory I have of him was the day that Karen came over and we sat down in the living room and talked. That was the day that Toby smiled for the first time.

Sometimes, the good memories hurt almost as bad as the bad ones. But, at least I have them.

Pete’s friend kept saying that “all these people” have a problem with me. But really, it’s like 4 people and they all know each other (and none of them really know me). But when I look at all the cards and letters and emails and stuff that I’ve gotten from people and I think about how supportive other people have been, it makes me feel better. Maybe it was just for Toby’s sake, but I like to think it was for mine, too. 

Song Lyrics of the Day

"You Find out Who Your Friends Are" by Tracy Lawrence

Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
Or get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare

This is where the rubber meets the road
This is where the cream is gonna rise
This is what you really didn't know
This is where the truth don't lie

{Chorus}
You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are

Everybody wants to slap your back
wants to shake your hand
when you're up on top of that mountain
But let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down look up
and see who's around then

This ain't where the road comes to an end
This ain't where the bandwagon stops
This is just one of those times when
A lot of folks jump off

{Chorus}

When the water's high
When the weather's not so fair
When the well runs dry
Who's gonna be there?

{Chorus}

You find out who your friends are
(yeah, yeah)
You find out who your friends are

Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
(Well man, I've been there)
Or get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare
(Man, I've been there)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Support Group


November 3, 2010

Pete and I went to our first joint support group meeting last night. This one was a little different because while everyone there had lost a child, they had all been infants so we had a little more in common. It was very sad. You sit there and look at other people in the room who are all about the same age as you and married and look like nice people and you think, this is not a club that any of us want to belong to.

It was a little awkward because we didn’t know anyone there and other people all knew each other because they had been going for awhile. Plus, we actually wanted to talk a lot. I don’t think we dominated (much) but maybe that happens on your first visit. It was good for Pete because he hasn’t really ad anyone to talk to except for me and Mom so I think he was trying to get it all out at once. We are so used to being judged and analyzed and stuff when we talk that we really restrain ourselves around a lot of people (not everyone, just a lot) so being in a setting like that was really comfortable.

Of course, I can’t talk about what anyone else said, but I can say that most of the people are going to try to have subsequent children. This made me feel a lot better. I am finding it kind of odd that if someone has a miscarriage or stillbirth one of the biggest (and worst) things that people say to them are, “You’re wrong, you can have another one.” Yet, if a child dies and you say you want to have another one you get, “Are you sure your body can handle it? Are you sure your mental health is okay? Shouldn’t you wait at least a year?” There seems to be a stigma attached to those who have lost a child that lived and now want to have another one in comparison to those that suffered a miscarriage or stillbirth where having another one is almost pushed on them. Just an observation. I say do what you want.

One thing that the moderator said, and I’ve said it over and over myself, is that you should grieve how you want to and in the way that’s right for you. There is no “right way” or “wrong way” since it’s all personal. I grieve differently than Pete and Mom yet it’s all kind of similar. Things that make me sad are not necessarily the things that make Pete sad and that’s okay, too.

So it was good to get out and see people and stuff. I also bought some Tylenol PM on the way home and took it last night and slept like a log. Woke up this morning feeling a little fuzzy, but at least I got up before noon so that was something. I am hoping to get my sleeping pattern regulated again. 

If anyone else out there is looking for a perinatal support group, then they meet the first Tuesday of every month at the Hospice of the Bluegrass Grief and Education Center in Lexington. Next month, however, they are having a candlelight ceremony at the Beaumont Presbyterian Church. 

I am thinking of adding a new motto to my blog: “"If you think the things I say out loud are bad, you should hear the things I keep to myself."