Halloween

Halloween is fast approaching . Usually I love Halloween but this year I am not so much. I am trying to make an effort for W's sake but really it is pretty half arsed. Normally I would go all out, crafts, decorations, themed snacks etc. We did do a small pumpkin -nothing fancy but W thinks it is pretty cool which is all that really matters.

Thankfully it is not such a big deal here but the English speaking kids organisations we belong to here are having Halloween parties this week. We will be going to one of them on Sunday. I am throwing together a 'costume' for W which basically involves her wearing a tutu she already owns to make her into a fairy/princess type character. I might buy some wings if I see any. I on the other hand already have my costume. I wear it everyday. I will be going as 'happy mum'.

The party we are going to is run by the group W attends a drop off playgroup for 2.5 hours twice a week, we only joined this group 1 month before Cordelia was born. I don't know anyone at this organisation really because it is just a drop off play group. Only the ladies who run it know what happened because W didn't attend for about 2 months, we kept her close to us after Cordelia died plus they shut up shop for summer. They were so kind and kept her spot open indefinitely and refunded our money for the time she wasn't there. I am sure some of the mothers noticed I was pregnant and then noticed I wasn't but no one has said anything to me and honestly I am OK with that. I feel somewhat safe there because of this, as a result I have volunteered to help to them set up for their annual Halloween party. Anyone who knows me knows that this is me in my element, well the old me, I think the new me will still enjoy this type of thing but for now it is baby steps. Therefore, I will go in and do what I am asked to do-no creative input on my side- just do. Mr M will bring W when the party starts, we will have fun and then leave.

Anonymously.

I hope.

Update: The kids party was OK, I felt a little anxious through most of it but we stayed. W was having a great time. After the party I was exhausted, we came home and I slept-hard, so did W! I just felt drained after being around so many people, putting on a happy face is tiring. On actual Halloween night we met up with some new friends in my neighbourhood and trick or treated at the few houses that were handing out sweeties. It was nice. We ended up going back to their house and had a few glasses of wine. The first time we have done anything like it. It was fun-yes you read right. Fun. I am glad it was spur of the moment. I had no time to obsess over whether I should go or not, if I would feel uncomfortable or not. We just went in and had a nice time, the kids all played well together. A nice moment for us. A glimmer of the future.

Friendships and loneliness

I feel lonely. I feel sad. I feel angry. I feel bitter. I feel low. Today I am especially lonely. We have moved a lot over the years. In the last 12 years I have lived in 11 houses/flats in 3 different countries. I have moved across the Atlantic 4 times. My roots are weak. I make friends easily thankfully but many friendships do not stand the test of distance, it is hard when you only see friends every few years. My dearest friends, the ones who I grew up with and know me better than anyone are scattered all over the place, most I have not seen in years. We talk on the phone but it is not the same as meeting for a cuppa and having a giggle together. We love each other but time plays tricks on friendships, I knew these girls best when they were girls, not the professionals or mothers they are now-now I just know the highlights of their lives-the cliff notes.

The friends I have here have been the best that they can be. We have only been friends for 1-2 years and we met through our kids, we do play dates. We have been out together once without the kids-my hen do  summer 2011. I like my friends here but we are missing each others history. I don't feel I can be totally open with them and put my grief on full display. Instead I play the strong, holding it together for W card when inside I am dying and want to fall apart. I want to cry and talk about Cordelia, how unfair this all is, how I want my baby back, how I held her while she took her last breaths, how beautiful she was. Why can't I let myself do that? Why do I have to pretend I am so bloody strong? 6 months have passed now and people probably think that I am over the worst of it but that is far from true. I feel like I have come a long way when I look back at myself in the first few weeks but in reality I have only made tiny baby steps forward. I still feel terrible, I still feel sad, I still feel guilty. So why am I hiding my grief from the world? Why do I cry on the tram alone instead of my friends arms?What is wrong with me? Why am I doing this to myself ? I want to take this mask off.

Partly I feel let down. I wish people had come. Hardly any one came. No casseroles, no shoulders to cry on. Most people stayed away, a few came once or twice never to return. When I do see my friends we always have our kids with us-a play date for W, this makes it hard to talk. I try to not cry too much in front of W. I am her mummy, I should be her super hero, not the sad, crazy always crying mother that will send her running to therapy when she is an adult. Some people have even down right offended me and I am at a crossroads as to what will happen with our friendship-can I forgive? I will never forget so how can I forgive. I am a bit of a chicken when it comes to confrontation so I know I will not be able to tell them straight what they have done to hurt me. God, I am useless. There are a couple of friends I see who I have been more open with than others, I just don't see them enough. They have kids, jobs and one just had her baby last week. That will be a post all unto itself.

I am partly to blame for this loneliness, I could have reached out more. Instead I retreated into a bubble and hid from the world. Didn't answer the phone, emails or texts. Isn't that normal though? my baby died!! People just took that as I didn't want to be disturbed but that wasn't always the case. I wish they had kept calling. I would have picked up eventually. When I was ready.

I am ready now.

But it is too late-life has moved on for everyone else, spring ended, summer disappeared in a haze and fall is here, soon turning to winter. I don't know what to do. How to fix this mess I feel I am in. I am not in the best frame of mind right now hence a very doom and gloom post. There are rays of light in terms of friendships though. I have made a few new ones recently. One is a baby loss mother and one is not. I think these ladies are going to help me get through this.

The dreaded question

'How many children do you have?

So I have pretty much been living in fear of being asked this question for 6 months now. I have spent a lot of time thinking about how I would answer it and I never really came up with something that worked. Such an innocent question really, of course you want to gush about your other kids if they are not there with you when the question is asked but what if they are not there with you because they died (i hate that word) not just that they are in school at that particular moment or at home napping with daddy.

Well it happened today, I was asked the question and I was totally unprepared for it; I hated my answer and now I am so wracked with guilt and sadness I am here letting it out, I feel like I am going to explode with emotion, like a caged animal pacing in its too small enclosure. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I don't know what to do with myself. So here I am.

I met a woman on the tram today who is from the same town as me in Canada. We got talking on the tram because her little girl is about the same age as W and they were speaking English, her and her family moved in to my development 2 weeks ago it turns out, coincidentally into the house that a very good friend of mine sadly vacated in July to move to the US. One of the first questions she asked after we had talked about Canada was 'Is she your only one?' pointing to W. Oh god no. I was totally caught off guard partly because we were on the tram-the tram is not such a great place to answer what is now a very personal and difficult question for me to answer.

My reply: 'yes'.

I hate myself. I know that no matter what way I answer that question I will hate myself. I hate that I denied Cordelia existed. I froze. There is no right way for me to answer this question, only wrong. It is a lose/lose situation with myself. I either deny Cordelia existed or I talk about her and potentially make someone feel awkward and want to run for the first exit. I know I should be strong, if they can't handle the shitty truth too bad, but why do I still feel too guilty to put someone in that situation that I compromise myself and leave me in a mess instead of them? I know my response would be so unexpected, the question has no malice behind it but it is an attacking question for baby loss mothers. I think I just don't like making other people feel, sad, guilty or awkard-I like to save that stuff for me it seems.

I have talked to other baby loss mummas about this question. Everyone dreads it. Some only mention their loss if they feel strong enough at that moment, some say it depends on how well they know the other person. Some said they HAVE to mention their loss no matter what as they feel guilty not acknowledging them. I know now that I fall into that category. I think it took me being asked that question today to realise that. I am trying to turn this into a positive lesson here because I feel so awful and I can't stop beating myself up right now for how I answered. I am so sorry Cordelia. I am trying to tell myself it's OK. Now I know how my heart wants me to answer this question -another crappy life lesson in being a baby loss mumma has been learnt. I hate these lessons. I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself but it is hard not to be, being a baby loss mumma is so complicated. I feel like going to that woman's house right now and asking her to ask me that question again so that I can give her the true answer, to be brave and tell her, no actually I do have another daughter who passed away 6 months ago, but I won't because that would be a bit weird. When the time feels right I will tell her about Cordelia and how beautiful she was.

Even though this question has been asked now and I know how I want to reply it does not mean that I live in any less fear of it being asked again but now perhaps I am a little more prepared. I will take my time before I answer, take a big deep breath and speak the truth. I have 2 beautiful daughters to be proud of.

Positives in a negative place

I have mixed feelings about the hospital Cordelia was born and died in.

This is normal I think-something really awful happened to my family there but also much of my healing is happening there now too. When I first started going back to the hospital for therapy it was extremely unpleasant to go there. Anxiety, sweating, nausea and sadness would all arise on my journey there, but I would always go in because I knew I was getting the support I so desperately needed. As the days started turning into weeks and now months these feelings are decreasing each time I go there. I still feel them-just not as strongly. In a way I am glad now that I have faced this challenge of going back there. I know it would be harder to go back there if I hadn't been visiting on a weekly and sometime twice weekly basis. I feel stronger for doing this-facing your fears is such a difficult and painful thing to do. This is the best hospital around here and I feel if I ever end up back in there for future care that I don't want to only have bad memories, I know this will be very hard in reality, bad memories are so much more vivid than good ones sometimes, especially these ones. When I go to the hospital it is always the same few rooms and that is OK for me, I am comfortable in them but the thought of going 2 floors up terrifies me. That is the floor where Cordelia came into this world and left it too soon, the floor where all of our nightmares came true. I hate that floor, that floor can go screw its self. We had some positive times on this floor too though, for a few days we thought Cordelia was going to be OK, we had precious but-never-long-enough kangaroo time with her-she was unbelievably soft. I would do anything for another 5 minutes of that special time together with her. Also, the care that I received and especially the neo natal team caring for Cordelia were super stars, I have so much respect and admiration for the nurses who put so much love and care into looking after Cordie for us, I know they were very saddened by her passing too.

Each week I walk past the ultrasound rooms where it seemed we kept getting surprised with bad news during the pregnancy, past the emergency room where I went when I first had bleeding, past the green chairs on the left by the lift-always filled with pregnant ladies with anxious faces, I have sat in those green chairs, it's usually because your are having some problems, I wish those chairs weren't there, I always feel for the ladies sat in them, I know what is going on behind their anxious faces:fear.

Despite all this, I still keep coming back for every appointment I have there, in fact those appointments have often been my lifeline, especially during the darkest early days, counting down the days until I could go back and pour my heart out to one and now 2 wonderful women who have heard my story like no one else and I am so thankful to them for helping me to lighten my load and taking some of this pain on. I still feel so many emotions going there each week, part of me hates the place, rightly so, how could I not. My baby who I should have brought home with me died there-just saying that makes me soo angry. For a while I really blamed the doctors who sent me home now I only occasionally do but that is another whole post another day. So I keep going back, even though it causes me sadness to be there and it can be a confusing place to be but it also gives me hope and right now I don't have much more than that to get through this and to come out the other side.

someone is missing

Cordelia. That is who is missing. I feel that empty hole everyday of where she should be, there is a Cordelia shaped hole in my heart that will never go away, I carry her there instead of in my arms, which feel so empty now. It has been almost 6 months since Cordelia passed away-how that much time has elapsed is beyond me. I didn't think I would live another day when we knew she was going to die but here we are, 6 whole long months down this long, dark confusing road of grief. I think of her all day everyday still, hardly a minute goes by where I am not trying to figure some thing out in my head relating to her and her short little life. I miss her. When we play games with W and say things like look 'we are all in the house' or 'look everyone is on the couch cuddling-including the cat' a little piece of me winces,because it is not true, we are not all here-Cordelia is missing. It breaks my heart to say these words of we are all here because it makes me feel guilty and sad, like we are having fun without her or moving on or forgetting her. She should be here squeezed into one of W's 'houses', laughing with her big sister or cuddling on the couch with us but she is not and there is nothing I can do about that-no matter how hard I try. Cordelia will always be missing from our lives. I guess this is where the whole 'time' thing comes in, we will get used to this feeling and it will become our new normal. Well, I have to say this new normal sucks, can I have the old normal back please?

My first ever blog entry

I never really saw myself as a blogger-I love blogs, in fact I am little obsessed with all kinds of blogs but I never felt I had anything to say or offer to people, until now and even now I am still not sure that I do. I just know that I need to write some stuff down and thought a blog might be a good choice. I am usually a fairly private person, definitely not one to share private matters on the blogespheres so at this point I am still undecided if I am going to share this with anyone or if this is just a place for me to come and put some thoughts or ideas down.

While my grief defines me right now, I am also other things too. I am a wife, sister, friend, cousin, auntie as well as a mumma to a very busy toddler. I love to cook, read books, craft, bake yummy treats, swim, travel, shop, drink wine, teach my daughter new things. These sides to me may also appear in this blog, I am a grieving mother but I am all these things too, I am trying to figure out where all these elements fit in my new life so bear with me. I am on a very strange and sad journey.

The main reason I stared this blog is that I found a wonderful website/blog called carlymarieprojectheal. Carly is also a bereaved mother and is doing wonderful things in and for this community. She has created an event called Capture your grief. The idea is that you take a picture everyday in the month of October to capture your personal story. I am no photographer but I though this was such a great way to capture the little (and big) things in my journey so far. I am already a few days behind so I have some catching up to do.