Saturday, October 23, 2010

The New Normal Part Two

Today I'm back to wishing I had died in childbirth.

This is too hard.

I miss him so much.

We caught the end of Slumdog Millionaire on tv this morning. The part where it flashes to the two children dancing together on the train platform at the end -- it had me crumpled into a ball on the floor, wailing and sobbing. (Though, to be fair, I had already been there a few times already this morning.)

The thought that kept devastating me, as I watched that scene, was that my boy will never get to know what it feels like to fall in love. To dance with a best friend, full of joy, exuberance, life force.

And that I may never know those feelings again either.

I had so many hopes. So many dreams. So much love for him. The love remains. The hopes and dreams are totally and completely shattered.

While the autopsy results (I will write about those at some point) should be providing me with "looking forward" hope - I could theoretically get pregnant and have a living child in the future (and the perinate assures me of this)- there is nothing specific to my pregnancy other than the trauma of the last five minutes of delivery that caused Otis to die - I feel like reading the autopsy and hearing all of that information has somehow shattered my hope more. That I will never get to love a living child like I love Otis. That I will never feel even hopeful enough to WANT to try.

What I am doing, feeling, being right now -- this is not living. And I can't see how it can ever feel any different.

Those last five minutes. He was with us until then. He was as perfect as I knew he was. With a shoulder that stuck in the wrong place, and all my love and all my power couldn't get him out in time.

I guess I'm no longer worried about whether or not I'm not grieving enough. Because now it feels like I will never get out from under this pain, and my worry is that I may not ever feeling like living again.

6 comments:

Meng Kiat Janis said...

I am so sorry that you are at this place right now. My heart goes out to you, and it holds the pain and missing for your Otis, the perfect child.

It is true, one is loathe to stand up and walk and live again, knowing that grief forever throbs in our hearts. Only when we live, we will grieve, because we have loved. And when we die, well, who knows what is on the other side? One day we will all find out.

I wish you much strength and peace, and send love.

Maddie said...

Hugs. I could've written this. I remember posting to a loss forum in the first couple of weeks saying I was worried I felt 'too good'. I got replies saying to not be surprised if it got worse before it got better. And it did - much worse. After about 4 weeks it took all my energy to get out of bed, shower, and try and eat something.

It may not feel like it now but one day you will feel like living again. In the meantime, all you have to do is breathe.

On a more practical level, I watched TV series on DVDs to pass the time. I couldn't read but a DVD would carry on regardless of whether I was paying attention or crying.

Maddie x

kate said...

I am loving you and Otis so much... cradling you both in my heart... wishing I could ease your pain, knowing I can't...

Kate xx

hayley said...

hi you

hold on my love. it is the saddest thing to know that Otis will never experience those things and that you won't either. That "looking forward" hope will come, maybe you will even get glimpses of it soon, but now I know it's another sunday without your boy. you and erik look after each other.

all my love, me.x

cullensblessings said...

Oh my sweet friend. I understand- completely. And I am sorry that I do.
I wish I could come and give you a big hug and just sit for a cry together.
None of your hopes, dreams or love will ever diminish for Otis. You are his mother and you will carry those always.

I think of you both every day. Love and grace- L

Alex said...

It's unbearably unfair that Otis will not do these things, and I am so sorry my dear sweet sarah. I am so glad you have this place and are connecting with other women who have known a loss similar to yours to give you some hope that this is surviveable, to tell you that one day it won't be THIS hard. I love you and Otis so much. x