Being a nurse, I love watching Discovery Health and especially the delivery shows, they're graphic and are representative of what really happens in hospitals. When I was pregnant with Ethan I often watched "Birth Day", "Special Delivery" and similar shows with excitement, anticipation and sometimes apprehension. After my precious baby died, I could not bear to watch them anymore. I went through my DVR and deleted the series recordings for many of these shows. I just couldn't do it.
A while ago, while reading the episode preview, I saw the episode was about a subsequent pregnancy after a stillbirth. I didn't watch it. I could not at the time. But, since then I've been reading all of the descriptions to see if they will replay it. They haven't, but I did DVR an episode about "Advanced Maternal age and complications". Usually, I fast forward through the episode, stopping only to see the "emergency" and forwarding through the rest. Since I am advanced maternal age, I'm 35, I began to watch it. They were profiling a woman, 37 years old, whose first child was born still at 8 months. Immediately, I was hooked. I watched the episode in it's entirety. I couldn't stop watching, I could relate to everything she was feeling with her current pregnancy. I'm not pregnant, but I have so much fear in just the thought of being pregnant again. Her water broke before her scheduled C section, and she went in to the hospital. As they were wheeling her into the OR, she was cautiously excited. Her apprehension was visible, all she was focusing on was whether her baby was still alive. We all know this can quickly change. One minute your pregnant the next your burying your child. Anyway, as they were performing her C section, she was mortified. Her baby was indeed born alive (exhale) ... breathing, crying and doing all of the wonderful things babies do when they're born ALIVE. I was in tears, the mother was in tears, it was a beautiful moment. I was so happy for this woman, whom I've never met, but nonetheless have so much in common with. She's a fellow deadbabymama. And the birth of her health baby was wonderful to watch.
And for the first time since Ethan died, I watched the show without fast forwarding. I think that's a stride in the right direction.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The elephant in the room
This weekend, as I was channel surfing I watched the commercial for the VMAs. The commercial with Britney Spears and the British comedian, and of course, the huge elephant in the background. I almost cried. No, not for Britney, but for me. Well, actually I do feel sorry for Britney but that's another story.
The elephant in the room, well, that's me at work. I'm the elephant. My pregnant co-worker and the rest of my coworkers, well I'm sure they see me as the elephant. She's now 35 weeks pregnant and she's very big and pregnant. She just had her work baby shower last week and I didn't attend. I couldn't. I did contemplate going, but I just could not. We were pregnant together. We shared many times together, both of us comparing our growing bellies together. Only I buried my baby and she's due in 4 weeks.
The gifts are slowly pouring in, and when I'm there I notice some will try to stash the gifts under the counter. This both angers and annoys me. On one hand, I feel as if I can handle it. But, then if they are talking and gushing about everything baby and pregnancy, I just want to yell, "Shut the hell up, you fucking insensitive assholes". I know, I must sound crazy. But it irritates me to no end.
It's hard to work with her. Her life is perfect, she doesn't have a dead baby. Don't get me wrong, I do not wish any harm on her or her baby. But, she's just so fucking happy. I want to yell at her and tell her, this can happen to you as well. I'm not a freak of nature. Although I feel that way sometimes, infertile and the mother to a stillborn baby. It makes me feel ashamed. Ashamed that my body failed me. That my body killed my baby.
I hate feeling this way. I'm not a hateful person. But, lately, I just want to yell at everyone at work. I want to tell them, that they of all people should understand and know that shit happens to people everyday. I'm a nurse, I see how fragile life is. Life changes in the blink of an eye. Yet, I don't want to be a pessimist. But is it pessimism or realism?
The elephant in the room, well, that's me at work. I'm the elephant. My pregnant co-worker and the rest of my coworkers, well I'm sure they see me as the elephant. She's now 35 weeks pregnant and she's very big and pregnant. She just had her work baby shower last week and I didn't attend. I couldn't. I did contemplate going, but I just could not. We were pregnant together. We shared many times together, both of us comparing our growing bellies together. Only I buried my baby and she's due in 4 weeks.
The gifts are slowly pouring in, and when I'm there I notice some will try to stash the gifts under the counter. This both angers and annoys me. On one hand, I feel as if I can handle it. But, then if they are talking and gushing about everything baby and pregnancy, I just want to yell, "Shut the hell up, you fucking insensitive assholes". I know, I must sound crazy. But it irritates me to no end.
It's hard to work with her. Her life is perfect, she doesn't have a dead baby. Don't get me wrong, I do not wish any harm on her or her baby. But, she's just so fucking happy. I want to yell at her and tell her, this can happen to you as well. I'm not a freak of nature. Although I feel that way sometimes, infertile and the mother to a stillborn baby. It makes me feel ashamed. Ashamed that my body failed me. That my body killed my baby.
I hate feeling this way. I'm not a hateful person. But, lately, I just want to yell at everyone at work. I want to tell them, that they of all people should understand and know that shit happens to people everyday. I'm a nurse, I see how fragile life is. Life changes in the blink of an eye. Yet, I don't want to be a pessimist. But is it pessimism or realism?
Monday, September 1, 2008
Missing Ethan
There are just no words to express it. The pain is so much to bear sometimes. I miss my baby. He should've been here right now. I should be rocking him to bed, cradling my sweet baby in my arms, nursing him. All of this, I should've had instead of sitting here writing about how much I miss him. I should be writing about what milestone he's reached or what his poopy diapers look like. Something, anything other than writing about my dead baby.
I've been visiting his grave a lot more lately by myself. At first, we would go as a family, my husband, my son and myself. As of lately, I've been going there by myself. I went there the other day, after dropping off my son at school. I cried, and cried. Actually, it was more like a howl, I was crying from deep inside my soul. I was reaching into that dark, desolate place in my soul. The place where grief and pain reside. I can't do that, all the crying, with our family there. My 6 year old gets really sad when I'm wailing. Which these days is a lot less than what it used to be earlier. But, I feel like I have to restrain myself, my feelings in front of others. But, there in the cemetery. I'm free to cry for my baby that died. There I can cry him a river. It's a small cemetery, quaint and very peaceful.
When I went there the other day after crying for a while, I talked to my baby, my precious son, my Ethan. I apologized for not keeping him safe inside my womb. I apologized to Ethan for thinking about TTC again. I feel guilty for wanting to get pregnant again. I need to try sooner rather than later. I'm 35 years old, I have PCOS. It took us 6 months to get pregnant with injectibles. I need to try again. But I am so scared. Scared of the same thing happening again.
I don't want to replace him and I don't want my friends to think because I am pregnant that it's a sign that "I'm over it." I also feel as time passes, that I'm further away from him than ever before. I know that's not true. He will always be in my heart.
I placed a picture of him on my dresser. It's the first thing I see every morning when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to bed. I miss him so much. I LOVE YOU ETHAN!!!
I've been visiting his grave a lot more lately by myself. At first, we would go as a family, my husband, my son and myself. As of lately, I've been going there by myself. I went there the other day, after dropping off my son at school. I cried, and cried. Actually, it was more like a howl, I was crying from deep inside my soul. I was reaching into that dark, desolate place in my soul. The place where grief and pain reside. I can't do that, all the crying, with our family there. My 6 year old gets really sad when I'm wailing. Which these days is a lot less than what it used to be earlier. But, I feel like I have to restrain myself, my feelings in front of others. But, there in the cemetery. I'm free to cry for my baby that died. There I can cry him a river. It's a small cemetery, quaint and very peaceful.
When I went there the other day after crying for a while, I talked to my baby, my precious son, my Ethan. I apologized for not keeping him safe inside my womb. I apologized to Ethan for thinking about TTC again. I feel guilty for wanting to get pregnant again. I need to try sooner rather than later. I'm 35 years old, I have PCOS. It took us 6 months to get pregnant with injectibles. I need to try again. But I am so scared. Scared of the same thing happening again.
I don't want to replace him and I don't want my friends to think because I am pregnant that it's a sign that "I'm over it." I also feel as time passes, that I'm further away from him than ever before. I know that's not true. He will always be in my heart.
I placed a picture of him on my dresser. It's the first thing I see every morning when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to bed. I miss him so much. I LOVE YOU ETHAN!!!
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