Frozen

"Let it goooooooooo! Let it GOOOOOO! I am one with the wind and skyyyyyyyyyyy!!!"

That is a literal writing of my five year old jamming out to youtube for the thousandth time. I can laugh and belt it out with both boys so loud that the neighbors probably know the words to Let It Go regardless whether they saw Frozen or not.

But not that long ago I did all I could to avoid that movie like it was the sole reason I for every single one of my problems.

You see the day after we lost our baby I was still determined to keep our visit to our hometown as normal as possible and we promised that we would go see the movie Frozen to Theo long before our miscarriage. So I plastered on my scary happy face and went with along.

It was a beautiful and hilarious movie. The problem wasn’t the movie, it was me. I was so sad and lost that I had reached crazy land. I was laughing at the not funny parts of the movie. And psycho pants laughing at the hilarious parts. I reached a breaking point, I was in a bad place, I had lost my touch on reality, how ever you want to put it.

So we left the movie and I didn’t think of how sad I was in that exact moment again until Theo asked to watch a YouTube bit of the movie. Let It Go began to play and I was ambushed by feelings.

I shouldn’t feel this way anymore, empty, lost overwhelmingly sad. Especially since I have two beautiful souls dancing in front of me. But still every time I hear the opening chorus and ice song I am reminded that right now I should be around 14 weeks into a pregnancy. I should be feeling tiny kicks and swirls.

But really what I feel is a little empty, only for a while. That emptiness is still there.

I still sang along and danced with my babies, but by the end of the song I was singing from my heart and then crying from there too.

My boys let the song end holding me. I told them I was sad our baby wasn’t in my belly any more. Theo nodded his head in agreement understanding my words.

“I miss her too mama.”

We got up again and belted out more Let It Go, listen to Olaf’s summer song and laughed.

I’m still healing, but I am better.

At least not crazy pants anymore.

Materialistic Items

This is a trigger warning for loss, if you are unfamiliar with them it is used to alert people when an internet post, book, article, picture, video, audio clip, or some other media could potentially cause extremely negative reactions (such as post-traumatic flashbacks) due to its content (Urban Dictionary).

Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there. Just don't look and pretend its not there…

This happened to be my mantra the first day we returned home after a trip to see family over the holidays. A trip I won't every forget. I rode on the airplane down to the SouthWest pregnant elated to share the news with our loved ones. I rode the airplane back up to the East Coast desperately trying to distract my brain from the pain of the miscarriage so I wouldn't be openly crying in public.

Walking into our home was bitter sweet, I was very ready to be able to be in a private sanctuary where I could deal with my emotions. I also was dreading the small reminders of our lost babe every where.  A tiny stocking, a ornament, and then of course the three posative pee sticks I still had were like bombs randomly placed throughout the house.

Less than twenty four hours into being home and I was acting like a nut avoiding my sight from those bombs. I avoided them like they might detonate if I thought about them. Of course when the boys fell asleep and I was alone with them and realized I was acting ridiculous. I also realized that I wasn't looking forward to Theo asking about the baby when he saw them.

Placing his hand on my belly, "Why isn't she in there any more Mama? Why did she leave? Where did our baby go?"
Tears streaming from my eyes, "I don't really know and I don't understand either. But I know that her body is back in the earth and her soul is with God. Maybe the baby will come back to us when it is ready this time."
Wiping my tears, "I miss her too."

We had that conversation, or something like it, almost everyday since I started bleeding. I just wasn't ready to discuss it again with him, especially without David home to help me.

Swallowing my crazy I gathered the only materialistic items I had left that represented our lost baby. Once I had them I realized I wasn't really crazy I was just still grieving.

I couldn't throw any of it away, so I hid it in a drawer. Maybe one day I will be able to look at them and not cry but today or tomorrow aren't those days.

Labyrinth

This is a trigger warning for loss, if you are unfamiliar with them it is used to alert people when an internet post, book, article, picture, video, audio clip, or some other media could potentially cause extremely negative reactions (such as post-traumatic flashbacks) due to its content (Urban Dictionary).

Two weeks of knowing I was pregnant, I thought that it still hadn’t sunk in yet. I assumed that my mind hadn’t had enough time to adjust to the knowledge I was carrying life. That was until I started bleeding, then I realized just how acutely aware I was of the life I was losing.

I have started and restarted this post about ten times. I always get tripped up on the simplest things. What point of view should I write this from? Should I mention that I think my oldest knew all along and was worried? Should I share in depth details, the things that haunt me when I’m alone in my head? Or do I just simply write it out and hope that the bare bones of a story will help heal me?

The words of grief are beyond me right now. I guess the real question is am I ready to write about this? I am hoping that by putting my story of loss into words will help ease my pain. I tend to internalize most of the negative emotions I feel. I bundle those bad boys up and shove them in a drawer in the back of my mind like I would with candy I was hiding from my kids. I realize that this isn’t the healthiest way to handle things I don’t want to face.

I also have realized that grief makes me crazy. Not the kind of crazy you might be thinking about with rolling eyeballs and asylum worthy actions. I mean I was doing things that I never thought I would. I would get up get dressed make sure my kids were safe with someone and crawl back in bed fully clothed. There I would either sleep, or stare off into oblivion for god knows how long and then not even remember why or what I was thinking about.  Those first horrible days I felt stuck in my head, I couldn’t really cry and all I wanted to do was just cry until the tears washed me out of the labyrinth I made in my mind.

One day at a time I am working my way thru this maze, and I realized that hacking thru the walls is more damaging then navigating around them. And I still have moments where I am suddenly drowning in pain, overwhelmed by the reality of loosing a baby.

But if I am trying to show my children everyday the natural cycle of life then I have to be able to accept it myself too. Death and loss are the same thing is this situation. They also are a normal part of life. I trust in my body, I know that for whatever reason this baby wasn’t meant to be, and with that I am inching towards healing.