Wait I am not ready yet!

I have come to the understanding that it is the people who are the closest to us that have the most power to emotionally destroy us. To illustrate my point I will give an example of something horrible that happened to me that I am now completely over and then I will give an example of something I will never get over.
This is a letter that I wrote to the paper last week:

"On April 18, 2012 I was driving on Hwy 11 at 9:45pm in my husband's new car (a
manual). I was in the left lane stopped at the lights at Hwy 20. I was the
first car in the left lane. After the light changed I sped up to the posted
speed limit (80km/hr) and waited to merge. Two cars in the right lane sped up
to block me and a third was coming. I put my signal light on and was ready to
merge. The third car, a van also squeezed me out. I honked my horn to let him
know I was there and flashed my lights out of frustration. I continued on to
the 60th street entrance into Sylvan Lake. As I signaled my high beams
flashed again - this time accidentally as I was still shaken from feeling as
though I was going to be run off the road and still not used to driving that
car. The driver of the van stopped in the entrance to 60th street and stopped
his car. He proceeded to get out of his car and storm towards me. I am visibly
pregnant and obviously a woman. He yelled and swore at me that he had the
"right of way" and that if I were a man he would have pulled me out of the car
and beat me up. He said that he was "so sick of this." I am not sure what he
was referring to exactly. Perhaps that others are racing to get in front of
him a the merge? Anyway I was not very happy with the way he treated me and
that he was not interested in listening to my side of the story. I hope he
reads this and will have a little more patience and compassion for other
drivers who might make mistakes and probably are not trying to be vindictive.
If I had managed to collect my self to memorize his plate I would have
reported him to the police for harassment."

I watched for this van on the highway the day after but now I find myself not caring about this encounter. It taught me a lesson about what I will do if I ever find myself in a similar situation but it no longer drains my emotional energy.

On the opposite end of the extreme is my current pregnancy and my loss of my last baby. As stated in my last post I have some baggage around gender of my children. There are many reasons for this that I am not going to explain because others may consider them to be petty or unimportant. I will say that the reasons for my baggage are my own and they do exist for me. I cannot simply dismiss them even if they really are not that important. The point is that I have significant pain that I am dealing with right now and I have a number of individuals whom I am especially close to that seem to think that it is their right to know if my baby is a boy or girl just because I let everyone know the last two times.
What they fail to grasp is this time is different. I am not good at dealing with pain. I need time to process and be okay with this before I can celebrate it with others. I feel guilty because all I want is to be celebrating this pregnancy like I did with my other two. SO when I am ready to share my good news I will. Until then I ask for some patience and compassion from those who are curious. You will know probably before I am ready to tell anyway.

19weeks

19 week ultrasound today. It went okay but I cried. I can't remember feeling as vulnerable since baby Steve died. I was watching the tech's face waiting for some grimace or scowl to show something was amiss. At the end of the test I said to him "my last baby died can you tell me the gender before my husband comes in so I can deal with it." he told me and I cried. I am not really ready to tell others yet because I am still not certian how I feel about it. I have to get to "okay" before I share the gender because if I don't and somebody says the wrong thing or hits a nerve inadvertently I am not sure what my response will be. So please don't ask. Both genders would have different baggage for me but one is significantly painful. Otherwise things seem to be okay but I await the official report from my doctor.

Media

Our friend was killed in an avalanche last weekend. I have been resisting as hard as possible reading the comments that follow the online articles about the incident but they seem to glare at me out of the computer screen. What amazes me is how impossibly cruel people can be when they don't know the person, or all of the facts. Our friend was not being reckless - in fact he was on his way to help a friend whose snow machine was stuck. He was an amazing person, caring, kind, generous, funny and one heck of a great father. The world is a poorer place for losing him.
If I were in charge I would reach through the computer and shake the ignorant pricks so hard that their brains would fall out.
I am angry this has happened to someone of such incredible worth. Shame on the fools for using his death as a soapbox for cruelty. Have some compassion A-holes.

Drs appt

I was told today that losing my baby was "bad luck." Placenta abruption can happen at anytime and it probably won't happen to me again. The man who told me this was an Obstetrician.  Well Mr Bad luck, you can bend over and take it up the tail pipe. I am not okay with probability. My son was probably going to live too. Sometimes doctors play God. I am not okay with having my future children being subject to whatever luck happens to be present the days I go into labor with them.
Women all over North American get C-sections for reasons less than a previous stillbirth. Why does my doctor think that it is okay to wait and see what happens. How the hell are you going to get a baby whose placenta is abrupting from Unit 25 on the 2nd floor to the operating room which is in the basement before he dies? Riddle me that Dr Bad Luck. You are full of sh$t.
Thanks for nothing.

So this morning I woke up with flashbacks of labor and finding out my baby is dead. I have fought with my head for most of the day and I finally feel as though I have beat the anxious pit in the bottom of my stomach. Yesterday was wonderful. I woke up well rested and Anne and I played all day. I would say that I have flashbacks 3 of 5 mornings. It can sour the day for me emotionally if I can't clear the bad thoughts. I know that Anne can sense it. I withdraw from her a little - just in the sense of not talking as much and not singing with her.
It is hard to explain but it is like climbing out of a hole. It is like reliving the stages grief each morning although not to the same extreme as 8 months ago. I hope this goes away eventually. It makes it really hard to be optimistic about the future. I want to be able to have a daily positive outlook and a renewed hope for the future. Some times I think to myself - I don't want this life. I don't want this life where my child is absent. Every child is unique and different and I could have a million more children and never replace him. How am I supposed to get to a point where I am at peace with this loss? How is it possible to be a peace when you have to relive the emotional trauma alone in your head during your early waking hours? 
Unless you have had to give birth to a dead baby it is probably difficult to understand how out of control this sort of situation makes a mother feel. For 9 months you put so much effort into helping a new life grow and then it is abruptly, violently, cut short. There is no reward for your work, the time is lost. It is almost like you were never pregnant. As life continues people will forget about your tragedy. Part of my life will have disappeared forever.

I will never forget. My head and heart won't let me.

so irritated

Yesterday was talking to someone about someone (gossip yes I know). Anyway this person referred to another who had recently suffered a medical misfortune. Not super serious but enough to be concerned about. SO anyway the person I was talking to said that a fourth person had suggested that the person who had the misfortune had it because she chose to work on a Sunday. Normally I would scoff at such a comment and continue on my way. How dumb -There are millions of people who work on Sundays. Why are they not all sick?
The reason this comment has stuck with me is because if someone was punished for a perceived sin by having a medical misfortune what the HELL am I being punished for? I hate how hard it is to understand life and church doctrine. There does not seem to be sense to anything.
Lately I have been trying to figure out why bad thing happen to good people. At church we are told that nothing comes into our life that is not for our ultimate good. We read the bible which has examples of people who suffer for their "sins." 
I think we interpret all kinds of crap to mean whatever suits us. 
My therapist says that people look for reason that bad things happen to others so they can take precautions to avoid similar situations in their own lives. She is the only person who has made logical sense to me regarding this matter.
Next time you think you know "why" something bad happened think before you speak. Chances are you have no idea.

spiteful

I just had an interesting conversation with a woman I don't know on a facebook post that was not my own. Isn't funny when we are locked into a conversation with someone who is dead set on being right or having the last word. I often fall into the trap of "I walked on the moon." Let me explain. There was a comedy skit on a video we borrowed from friends that went as followed:
Dinner table at a restaurant, there is a group of acquaintances. Some know each other better than others. There is one slightly obnoxious individual who for whatever reason dominates the conversation. He talks about himself and if anyone brings up anything he "tops them" with his own more interesting or crazy experience. At this table unbeknownst to the "topper" is Neil Armstrong. As the table begins to tire of the incessant blabber of the guy who cannot quit talking about himself Neil says in a quiet voice, " I walked on the moon."
That shut the "topper" up.
Sometimes people blabber about their trials or crappy experiences and bear testimony about how "we are not tried beyond our ability." My inward response is usually. You have no idea what you are talking about. Your trial was piddly and I would be able to "top it." I would not be so ignorant to say that my trial is the worst thing that a person can experience but I would certainly say there are days where I am surprised I am still breathing.
There are somethings that will never go away. Some things that will never get better. I am in the middle of trying to figure out how to function everyday without losing my mind to grief.
For example, I wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares of the experience I went through. The nurse's face sits in my memory as she desperately searches for a heartbeat. The look on my Papa's face as he runs into the assessment room and hears the OB say "I am sorry your baby has passed away." Having to go through labor knowing that there will not be any reward for all the pain. Asking my husband if I am going to die too because I am bleeding internally and seeing the look on his face. Telling my father as he is driving to pick up my daughter that  'the baby is dead." 
Leaving my perfect baby at the hospital wrapped up in a plain white blanket because his pretty one is not allowed in the morgue. Watching him being lowered into the earth and thinking "I worked 9 months for that little person and now I don't even get to know him." Watching other women have babies that live and feeling crippling jealousy and resentment towards them and their baby for living.
Now I am scared to death of living through those experiences again. How do you find joy in pregnancy when you know the worst that can happen. How do you attach to a new baby who will not be your lost baby? How do you allow yourself to celebrate someone new without feeling crushing guilt that your other baby is dead. How do you have hope for a future that will never be what you had planned?
I walked on the moon
I never want to go back