I've been struck recently by how I'm often off count. I get together with my sister, or go out to dinner, and someone asks me the number of people, and I'm never right it seems. It noticed for the first time last Christmas. I'm counting and recounting stockings and presents, and I'm off. Bam, it hits me. Myles. I'm counting Myles. What a shot in the gut.
It has me thinking a lot about feminism and the right to choose. I guess what bothers me is that I think that the right to choose MEANING is often overlooked. The right to view your child as a person, with a life and future is often overshadowed by the pointless banter, back and forth, under and over each othdr.
My son was not a fetus to me. Medically, yes. But to me; he was a baby, a toddler, a little boy, and a man. He was my son. He counts to me. He counts to me the same whether he was born still or alive. He was loved and wanted, and he was our son.
I just want that reality recognized. That a child can be loved at conception, and that their loss at any gestation means the loss of meaning, the loss of the future and the loss of many women's dreams.
My son was very much a person to me, and I want that to be respected as much as anything.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sigh
I'm still debating on the deletion thing. Mostly I just don't want cruel people to have access to my personal thoughts, and I don't want people who can't constructively talk to me in real life to get the privelege of knowing what's going on with me. With family like this, who needs enemies? Sigh.
Anyway, that's not why I'm writing now. Last night Simone had a teary night. Sometimes she is upset about something else, and it turns into her being sad about Myles. Her pain over Myles generally grows out of a general feeling of shittiness for her, and I totally get it. Last night was different though. We were laying next to each other as I tried to get her to wind down and she said she had a lump in her throat. Usually the crying isn't crying like when she gets hurt (feelings or otherwise) it's a little more dramatic, somewhat forced. Her crying about Myles has always been that way. Last night, though, she really got swept up in tears like I haven't seen.
I think it was good for her. She doesn't see me cry like I once use to. When I cried last night as we were talking about what we had wanted for Myles, I could tell the sense of reciprocity and her ability to empathize and comfort really gives her a sense of mastery. Her compassion is unparalleled.
Okay, but teary nights we've had. What I have never heard her say before is what's been bouncing around my head:
'Mom, I just knowed it was going to happen. I tried to just act normal and smile, but I just knowed he was going to die.'
?! huh ?!
Simone will be 6 in August, is just finishing up her first year of Kindergarten. Kids grow so damn fast. When I told her she was three when we learned about my pregnancy, and we celebrated her 4th bday when I was very much prego, it blew us both away to contemplate how little she was, how long ago it was. She has grown so much since he died. She loves to play this game, how old would Myles be (or would he have been). So she'll say, When I'm 8, how old would Myles have been. She'll go up into their teens and 20's. It's so sad.
So watching Simone develop, and watching her understand her loss more deeply as she ages has really given me some insight. I know lots of women who have felt they've had a premonition. Hell, I look back and even B has looked back and said (because of x, y, and z) we knew something, even though we didn't KNOW. It makes me wonder if going back, and giving more weight to the fears and anxieties we felt during the pregnancy, is part of being human. I don't think anyone can know, but I think we have this inclination as humans to go back and make sense of the events in our lives. We create forshadowing in the aftermath. We tell some story in our minds leading up to whatever terrible life altering event we've been through, that makes sense like a book makes sense. I think perhaps it gives us some sense of control in a world where we really have no control. Where do psychic beliefs originate from? Are they something that evolved?
Sigh. I'm still thinking on it. Has anyone out there felt they didn't have a sense of forboding about their child's death?
Simone said a lot of interesting things last night. She also said, for the first time, that nobody knows what she feels. 'Nobody knows what it's like to lose their little brother'. It remeinded me of my blog a few weeks ago when I said nobody knows what I live through each day without Myles. That sense of loneliness I wish I could take for her. I know how painful that is :(
I'm so fortunate to have her, and I'm so glad to be her mother.
Anyway, that's not why I'm writing now. Last night Simone had a teary night. Sometimes she is upset about something else, and it turns into her being sad about Myles. Her pain over Myles generally grows out of a general feeling of shittiness for her, and I totally get it. Last night was different though. We were laying next to each other as I tried to get her to wind down and she said she had a lump in her throat. Usually the crying isn't crying like when she gets hurt (feelings or otherwise) it's a little more dramatic, somewhat forced. Her crying about Myles has always been that way. Last night, though, she really got swept up in tears like I haven't seen.
I think it was good for her. She doesn't see me cry like I once use to. When I cried last night as we were talking about what we had wanted for Myles, I could tell the sense of reciprocity and her ability to empathize and comfort really gives her a sense of mastery. Her compassion is unparalleled.
Okay, but teary nights we've had. What I have never heard her say before is what's been bouncing around my head:
'Mom, I just knowed it was going to happen. I tried to just act normal and smile, but I just knowed he was going to die.'
?! huh ?!
Simone will be 6 in August, is just finishing up her first year of Kindergarten. Kids grow so damn fast. When I told her she was three when we learned about my pregnancy, and we celebrated her 4th bday when I was very much prego, it blew us both away to contemplate how little she was, how long ago it was. She has grown so much since he died. She loves to play this game, how old would Myles be (or would he have been). So she'll say, When I'm 8, how old would Myles have been. She'll go up into their teens and 20's. It's so sad.
So watching Simone develop, and watching her understand her loss more deeply as she ages has really given me some insight. I know lots of women who have felt they've had a premonition. Hell, I look back and even B has looked back and said (because of x, y, and z) we knew something, even though we didn't KNOW. It makes me wonder if going back, and giving more weight to the fears and anxieties we felt during the pregnancy, is part of being human. I don't think anyone can know, but I think we have this inclination as humans to go back and make sense of the events in our lives. We create forshadowing in the aftermath. We tell some story in our minds leading up to whatever terrible life altering event we've been through, that makes sense like a book makes sense. I think perhaps it gives us some sense of control in a world where we really have no control. Where do psychic beliefs originate from? Are they something that evolved?
Sigh. I'm still thinking on it. Has anyone out there felt they didn't have a sense of forboding about their child's death?
Simone said a lot of interesting things last night. She also said, for the first time, that nobody knows what she feels. 'Nobody knows what it's like to lose their little brother'. It remeinded me of my blog a few weeks ago when I said nobody knows what I live through each day without Myles. That sense of loneliness I wish I could take for her. I know how painful that is :(
I'm so fortunate to have her, and I'm so glad to be her mother.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
debating on deleting all of this
I'm debating on deleting this blog. Quite frankly, i was stupid enough to let some family members see it, and i haven't remained as anonymous as i probably should have (using pseudonyms etc.). It makes me really kind of sad, but i don't really know what else to do? I've basically stopped blogging on myspace for the same reason, and/or kicked family members off (it's a private blog). I guess I'm just bummed because I really like being able to come here and vent, and for the few readers i have, read your replies. It's just not the same genre as posting on an online forum if you all know what i mean. I guess what's even more sad is that I used to not give a damn, but I feel so vulnerable, and I feel the world is so cruel, that I would delete this very personal diary/chronicle simply to protect myself from the hurt or questions forced on me by others. This blog has been with me since the beginning, and having to say goodbye to it is something i would mourn.
I just don't know what to do. Does anyone have any advice? :(
I just don't know what to do. Does anyone have any advice? :(
Monday, April 27, 2009
Time doesn't heal this
I'm having a rough day today. I don't know why. It's 17 months to the day since I buried my son, and here I am again, crying alone in the shower, in front of my computer, smoking in the garage, tears running down my face everywhere I go.
It just feels like each day brings added weight, not relief. That I'm losing Myles each and every day because as time moves forward, I move further away from him and my life as I knew it. I'm a shell of a my former self, bitter and sad.
Mother's day is coming up and I think Simone and I are just going to make some cards together. Me for my mom, her for me and maybe for Myles too if she wants. I wish I could go to the zoo to see the butterfly plaque my family got last November in honor of Myles, but Simone and I will go see it together soon if not on Monther's day. Simone never tires of remembering Myles, she'll love to see his name there with all the children and butterflies. Everything is so bittersweet. She wants to take the plaster casts of Myles' two hands and one foot to school. I don't know if I can do it, and I can't let her take them alone, but for her I'll try.
Sadly, Mother's day doesn't remind me of what it should; this time two years ago when I had my two children with me. I didn't know that was my only true Mother's day, the only one I'd ever have. Instead, the upcoming Mother's day reminds me of last year, and crying in the parking lot at Perkins as my first family betrayal scorched my already tattered heart. I didn't know I could hurt more than I had. What little I knew almost 6 months out.
The trauma of the first year weighs heavily on me the second. Time moves forward and everyone else forgets. Nobody lives with this daily as I do, nobody. Each year, you remember the last. Last year at this time I was so utterly lost, more than I could fathom. This year I'm here, but my life is on it's head. I feel so defeated. I didn't know I could feel more defeated than after I lost Myles, but the death of my marriage is it's own loss. 11 years together, 8 years of marriage on May 26th; this will be our first anniversary apart. Somehow, it seems like we're failing both our children.
Anyway, there is no point to this, just thinking, typing, rambling, crying, blowing my nose. I'm just worried about next month, and the old pain it will dredge up and the new losses I will have to deal with. I used to love May, once upon a time. I will somehow have to find the courage and strength within me to sustain me through the month ahead :(
It just feels like each day brings added weight, not relief. That I'm losing Myles each and every day because as time moves forward, I move further away from him and my life as I knew it. I'm a shell of a my former self, bitter and sad.
Mother's day is coming up and I think Simone and I are just going to make some cards together. Me for my mom, her for me and maybe for Myles too if she wants. I wish I could go to the zoo to see the butterfly plaque my family got last November in honor of Myles, but Simone and I will go see it together soon if not on Monther's day. Simone never tires of remembering Myles, she'll love to see his name there with all the children and butterflies. Everything is so bittersweet. She wants to take the plaster casts of Myles' two hands and one foot to school. I don't know if I can do it, and I can't let her take them alone, but for her I'll try.
Sadly, Mother's day doesn't remind me of what it should; this time two years ago when I had my two children with me. I didn't know that was my only true Mother's day, the only one I'd ever have. Instead, the upcoming Mother's day reminds me of last year, and crying in the parking lot at Perkins as my first family betrayal scorched my already tattered heart. I didn't know I could hurt more than I had. What little I knew almost 6 months out.
The trauma of the first year weighs heavily on me the second. Time moves forward and everyone else forgets. Nobody lives with this daily as I do, nobody. Each year, you remember the last. Last year at this time I was so utterly lost, more than I could fathom. This year I'm here, but my life is on it's head. I feel so defeated. I didn't know I could feel more defeated than after I lost Myles, but the death of my marriage is it's own loss. 11 years together, 8 years of marriage on May 26th; this will be our first anniversary apart. Somehow, it seems like we're failing both our children.
Anyway, there is no point to this, just thinking, typing, rambling, crying, blowing my nose. I'm just worried about next month, and the old pain it will dredge up and the new losses I will have to deal with. I used to love May, once upon a time. I will somehow have to find the courage and strength within me to sustain me through the month ahead :(
Friday, April 17, 2009
Redemption
I've been in hell for the last 3 or 4 weeks, battling a depressive episode, working on my dissertation proposal, missing all the deadlines it seemed, and struggling to find the will or the energy to pull it together. While doing this, other drama weighed heavily, we lost the dogs (then found them), my stepdad may be very sick; I've just felt so helpless, hopeless, and alone.
On monday I passed my proposal defense (first 3 chapters of my diss.), and the positive response i got surpassed my wildest dreams. I got so many compliments they liked it 'as is' but had great suggestions. I could just about cry. I realized just how much i tear myself down in my own mind. I'm my own worst enemy.
So, there is the good news, my faith in my ability to do my job is returning. I feel redeemed.
My depression was better today, but here I am sleepless at 430am in limbo. I'm hoping to move back to home May 21st. It's my birthday and I can't think of a better present than being able to pick Simone up from her last day of school that day and just drive back, lol. Where we will live is yet to be seen. But at this point I don't care. I just miss Lincoln and so does Simone, so i want to make it happen very badly.
Anyway, just wanted to share some happy news, my actual dissertation and final defense do not feel near so intimidating, and that feels reassuring. With the response I got, I think things are going to work out well. Maybe I'll actually get my PhD after all?!
On monday I passed my proposal defense (first 3 chapters of my diss.), and the positive response i got surpassed my wildest dreams. I got so many compliments they liked it 'as is' but had great suggestions. I could just about cry. I realized just how much i tear myself down in my own mind. I'm my own worst enemy.
So, there is the good news, my faith in my ability to do my job is returning. I feel redeemed.
My depression was better today, but here I am sleepless at 430am in limbo. I'm hoping to move back to home May 21st. It's my birthday and I can't think of a better present than being able to pick Simone up from her last day of school that day and just drive back, lol. Where we will live is yet to be seen. But at this point I don't care. I just miss Lincoln and so does Simone, so i want to make it happen very badly.
Anyway, just wanted to share some happy news, my actual dissertation and final defense do not feel near so intimidating, and that feels reassuring. With the response I got, I think things are going to work out well. Maybe I'll actually get my PhD after all?!
My shitty plan
Okay, the plan, moving back to my hometown, uh . . . not so good. I didn't realize that what I needed was my ideal family, not the one I have. Because the family I have are just are who they are; each their assets and faults. They don't have a magic wand. They can't be what I need when I need it. Because on a very fundamental level they don't understand.
And I shouldn't expect them too.
And when they say things, hurtful things, they think they're helping. It's a catch 22 as another bereaved parent described the phenemonen of familial anlienation after the death of a child. What they want to do to help, hurts. They're destined to do everything wrong. Because they just want the old you back, and they want to 'fix'. There is no fix.
Well, my family has done EVERYTHING wrong (cept sweet Heidi ;).
From micromanaging our lives, to saying I don't deserve my daughter, to saying I'm doing my son's 'legacy' a disservice, to telling me they understand exactly how I feel and Myles would want . . . (rip someone's fuckin head off). When I skipped Thanksgiving (Myles died on Thanksgiving) I was told to 'get with it'.
I think I've been criticized for everything you can be criticized for. And I miss Lincoln, and the drama with families (Brandon's families have been probably the biggest jerks but there is a good competition) and with B and I trying to figure out our shit, and parenting, and defending my diss. proposal (April 13th, yay), and working, and I'm just about ready to lose it.
When will I be back in my home? I think the most depressing part is I can't say. Simone has to finish school, she finishes on my bday, and I think that might be the magic day. But . . . only . . . if things pan out like they need to. And I have so little hope for the minor things. For big things? I don't think I have it in me.
Missing Lincoln, and Myles, and my sanity.
And I shouldn't expect them too.
And when they say things, hurtful things, they think they're helping. It's a catch 22 as another bereaved parent described the phenemonen of familial anlienation after the death of a child. What they want to do to help, hurts. They're destined to do everything wrong. Because they just want the old you back, and they want to 'fix'. There is no fix.
Well, my family has done EVERYTHING wrong (cept sweet Heidi ;).
From micromanaging our lives, to saying I don't deserve my daughter, to saying I'm doing my son's 'legacy' a disservice, to telling me they understand exactly how I feel and Myles would want . . . (rip someone's fuckin head off). When I skipped Thanksgiving (Myles died on Thanksgiving) I was told to 'get with it'.
I think I've been criticized for everything you can be criticized for. And I miss Lincoln, and the drama with families (Brandon's families have been probably the biggest jerks but there is a good competition) and with B and I trying to figure out our shit, and parenting, and defending my diss. proposal (April 13th, yay), and working, and I'm just about ready to lose it.
When will I be back in my home? I think the most depressing part is I can't say. Simone has to finish school, she finishes on my bday, and I think that might be the magic day. But . . . only . . . if things pan out like they need to. And I have so little hope for the minor things. For big things? I don't think I have it in me.
Missing Lincoln, and Myles, and my sanity.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Awful nightmare
Not about Myles. My mom is 55, and has had more than her fair share of health problems. Well she went into urgent care for being dizzy, and I'm sick, and I went to bed at 830. The last thing Simone and I did was call her and we figured she was coming home soon, doctors said as soon as her heartrate came down.
Well, I just had the most horrible dream that she died. Just awful. And I had to tell my daughter, who adores her grandma Cyn, and it was more heartbreaking than words can describe. I just woke up sobbing, its 344am, and I don't think I'm going back to sleep. Just went and checked her bed. (okay, i was going to go cry to her and tell her how much I love her) but she wasn't there. Docs must have kept her in over night to watch her :(
I know she's going to be fine, but in my dream, all the things about her grandchildren's life she was gonna miss flashed through my head. It was excruciating thinking she would never see any of it. So, no one to console me, here I am.
I love my mom so much, and living with her, it seems like shes been driving me crazy. But none of that lame stuff matters that much in the grand scheme, and I'm feeling like an unappreciative heel.
I thought losing Myles had taught me something about life and death, and now I'm feeling like I learned nothing at all. That the next time life takes its inevitable course, I will be just as unprepared as anyone. And I know loss and grief, they have been my partners for so long. But something tells me that when it happens again, it will be like meeting them anew, and dealing with this human condition all over again.
For the first time, I wish I could call my brother (whom I haven't spoken to since around Christmas. I'm still angry with him, I just need someone to talk to.
Well, I just had the most horrible dream that she died. Just awful. And I had to tell my daughter, who adores her grandma Cyn, and it was more heartbreaking than words can describe. I just woke up sobbing, its 344am, and I don't think I'm going back to sleep. Just went and checked her bed. (okay, i was going to go cry to her and tell her how much I love her) but she wasn't there. Docs must have kept her in over night to watch her :(
I know she's going to be fine, but in my dream, all the things about her grandchildren's life she was gonna miss flashed through my head. It was excruciating thinking she would never see any of it. So, no one to console me, here I am.
I love my mom so much, and living with her, it seems like shes been driving me crazy. But none of that lame stuff matters that much in the grand scheme, and I'm feeling like an unappreciative heel.
I thought losing Myles had taught me something about life and death, and now I'm feeling like I learned nothing at all. That the next time life takes its inevitable course, I will be just as unprepared as anyone. And I know loss and grief, they have been my partners for so long. But something tells me that when it happens again, it will be like meeting them anew, and dealing with this human condition all over again.
For the first time, I wish I could call my brother (whom I haven't spoken to since around Christmas. I'm still angry with him, I just need someone to talk to.
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