Reverberations

   You know, it's so interesting. Every time I think I've backed off and taken a breather from thinking about the loss, something happens to remind me just how much it still hurts. I was reading another woman's blog about her losses and struggles and it just brings it all back. Strange how another's pain can resonate so strongly with me. It's like my pain is a bell, and others' pain can touch it and cause it to reverberate.
    In some ways I see that as a good thing. It helps me keep on track with this grieving thing. It helps me to face what's going on in my heart instead of ignoring it. It helps me to feel. But in other ways, I resent it. Sometimes, I don't want to feel. I want to ignore. I want to escape. I want to pretend that I'm doing OK, that I'm not hurting as much as I really am inside. 
    Either way, the pain is real, and crying over someone else's blog post isn't just about being sad for them, it's about being sad for me too. Sad for what was loved, and lost. Sad for what could have been. Sad for myself--well, if you've been reading my blog, you know it's just one big pity party, after all. Hah. Honestly though, I'm not blogging about this in order to get someone else to feel sorry for me. I'm doing this because I'm trying something, anything, to get past this hurt and to move forward with my life. And if writing about it helps that, then by golly, I will write. I'm not sure yet whether it's helping, but it does feel good to get it out. So thank you, dear readers, for being a part of this process for me. Hopefully, one day I can look back and see the healing process taking place. Right now I just feel like it's all darkness and pain. But eventually, something's gotta give.

    Boy, looking back, I can see just how naïve I was. I was naïve about miscarriages, in the first place, that they could happen to me. I thought, nah, that won't happen, I'll be fine! My first pregnancy was fine, what do I have to worry about? Then, after it happened, I was naïve about the grieving process. I thought, oh, give it about 6 months or so, I should be OK, right? Hmm...no. In 4 months it will be 2 years---2 years, people! since the miscarriage happened, and I'm still not OK! Maybe someone needs to put some literature out there about miscarriages and how they can completely ravage your soul. I'm sure there are some people that bounce back just fine, and have a nice little uncomplicated grieving spell that resolves appropriately and they can look back and be grateful, somehow, that their baby died. Then there are those of us, like me, that are just not happy doing things the easy way and have to go and do some complex, fruitless, senseless grieving saga that just goes on and on. Ugh. Here's to being "unique" and marching to the beat of your own drum. Cheers!

Death

 A short post for tonight. It's late and bedtime beckons. But I have realized something--since the miscarriage, no matter what I do, it seems I am dogged by anxiety and fear. It takes different forms at different times. Before I got pregnant with my youngest, I would worry about my older son and I getting killed or injured in a car accident when I drove. I would worry about my husband. I would worry about someone breaking into our house and killing us. Now, I worry about the baby. Oh, I worry about his reflux and I worry when he cries that he's in pain. But in reality, the deeper, underlying fear is, I worry that my baby will die. Death, always death, is the common theme. I fear death, because it is a shapeless, faceless foe who I cannot fight. 
Even now I feel anxious in the pit of my stomach. How long can I go on feeling this way and still be healthy? I worry for myself that I'm going to end up with some sort of physical ailment or neurological disorder. I don't want that, and I don't want to be anxious when I hold my baby, because I know he can feel it. I also know that my older son is sensitive and he can feel others' emotions. But I feel powerless to do anything about it.
If I could afford counseling, I would go, but I don't have insurance and a single session is $200. For that money, I could buy a mess of groceries. No, it's not doable at this point. Maybe at some future date. At least for now there are things like Tension Tamer tea and Calms tablets. They do help. I just wish I could let go of this fear. But when Death visits you, you can no longer delude yourself into thinking it will never happen to you. Because it can happen to anyone.