I realized tonight that I couldn’t keep up with replying back to your comments on my last post. I am overwhelmed at the amount of support from you guys. Your own stories of loss and how you coped broke my heart and gave me hope at the same time. This one by my dear friend, Ann @ A Day in the Life of the Foster’s, summed up a lot of ideas:
It honestly has taken me over a year and I’m still not “over” my loss. Here’s a few things I’ve learned along the way…
1.) It is NEVER to early to celebrate.
2.) That was YOUR baby. A part of you, a part of Chris.
3.) Take joy in your baby and celebrate the days you had with him.
4.) Give him a name
5.) Do something to memorialize him. Something in his memory. Aside from the rose bush and bracelet, we let go of balloons on Lauren’s due date and on the twin’s due date.
6.) Allow yourself time to grieve. Cry the ugly cry as many time as YOU need to. Be angry. Scream. Shout. Kick…or don’t. But DO what helps you cope. I took to running for several months and that was therapeutic for me.
7.) Eventually, in your time, talk about it. Talking about it and blogging about it took me a LONG time to do. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t express what I was feeling. I was depressed, angry, sad, in complete and utter agony. But I saw a counselor and once I started to talk about it and truly allow the flood gates to open, I began to heal. The first 4 or 5 sessions I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed to my counselor, but eventually I was able to talk about it, and for me, that’s when the true healing began. There are a lot of wonderful counselors out there who specialize in infertility and miscarriage. For me it helped.
8.) Just know that we are all rallying around you and wish we could take your pain away. You are now unwillingly a part of a sisterhood of women who can relate to your pain. But know, that your pain is like no one else’s pain because it’s your pain. It’s your baby.
9.) and lastly, someone gave me the greatest advice once that I want to pass on to you: “God didn’t allow this to happen, but He is here for you BECAUSE it happened.”
I had many ideas given to me about how to remember my baby. Do you want to know the most difficult, but emotionally crucial one that I knew I had to do?
It was one thing calling him Embie, Little Blasty. It was another thing entirely to give him a baby name. Because that meant he was my child. A tiny little human being. And he was no longer here.
I’ve cried a lot since last Friday. I cried again when I knew I was going to give him a name. I know that he may very well in fact be a she, but to me, he was a boy. And after spending a few days thinking of his name, I realized God had planted his name inside my heart the day I got my BFP.
His name was Adam. My baby’s name was Adam.
I’ve decided I am going to make a shadow box for him, which will hang in our bedroom. I also want to find a necklace, so I can carry his memory with him where ever I go.
It’s been a rough week. Ever since last Friday, the night we found out, I haven’t been sleeping. For some reason my body has been insisting on waking between midnight and 2:00 to pee, and then waking again around 4:00 to lie awake until my alarm. It’s not like I have been having an increase of liquids before bed. It’s just apparently how my body wants to grieve. So I have been exhausted. The first part of this week brought especially difficult mornings, where the overwhelming sadness would last for hours. It got a little easier once I named him and decided what I wanted to do for him. But I am just so sad. So very, very sad. I want my baby back. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to open my anniversary cards.
I will bounce back. I will be ok. I need this time to grieve, and then I will be back to my regular vagina-laden posts. Apparently, my posts can be quite funny.
I found a small group at a church my husband and I have been attending, EBC. It’s a group for couples experiencing infertility. It meets twice a month and one is just for the women. I can’t wait. I don’t know many women in real life experiencing this and so this will be a good thing for me. For my husband. Yes, I think it will.
Doing something is helping with the grief. I think this weekend will be a good time to put together Adam’s shadow box. It’s going to be beautiful, guys. I can’t wait to show it to you.