Adelle - Our Angel Baby

Earlier this week I met with Sara (I have changed her name for her privacy), who is an Angel's mommy too.  We talked about so many things that I had not thought about for a long time.  It was nice, but at the same time was very difficult.  It brought back a flood of emotions and that night I cried myself to sleep for the first time in a while.  I realized how much I miss my little baby and how much I keep myself from feeling...

Sara lent me a great book (that she has read three times already... and I understand why).  It is called Beyond Tears - Living After Losing a Child written by parents who have lost a child.  I was flipping through the pages yesterday and fell upon a passage that spoke so strongly to me.

Since November so many people have told me things like: "You're so strong..."  or "I don't know what I would have done if this happened to me..."  Every time words like these were uttered it felt like I was being stabbed in the heart.  I couldn't quite comprehend why and I couldn't put the words together to formulate a thought that made sense.  Then, highlighted by Sara (so I know she has felt the exact same thing), the author wrote:
While those in the "civilian world" may think we are consoled when they tell us they could not survive losing their child, some of us dissect such words and unfortunately attach a very different meaning to them. [...] It's almost as if they are saying that we are able to survive because we didn't love our child as much as they obviously love theirs.

I can't express the relief I felt when reading that.  It's been something that has been weighing on me for a while.  As I read a few more passages, I understood myself more.  I am not living every day... rather I am surviving every day.  There's a big difference.  Sara and I were told by different people that the pain never goes away, it just gets less intense as time goes on.  I am happy to have met Sara and that we can journey together and when it feels like the pain will never get "less intense" we can turn to each other for empathy.

Most nights I wake up in panic.  I have had so many strange dreams and nightmares... too many to recount.  This might be the reason I am so tired during the day.

Last night falling back asleep after such an episode, I had a dream that I was pregnant again.  The sensations of the baby moving and turning around in my belly felt so real.  I wished for the dream not to end, though I knew it was not real because because the details were inaccurate (I had just found out I was pregnant and had the belly of a 5-month pregnant lady), but it did. 

I have had dreams that run through my mind like a movie reel, showing the same pictures and events over and over again since November.  But this was different.  It was a nice dream, although I've been somewhat melancholic today because of it.  Trying to remember the same sensations which just aren't the same while awake (because reality is harsh during the daytime).

I am not going to analyze this dream or try to give it deeper meaning. Instead, I've accepted this as a sort of gift... A relief that maybe even in the future, dreams will be a reminder of the physical memory... 

Something great happened yesterday.  Something worth mentionning...

I had been trying to get in touch with the Perinatal Bereavement Services of Ontario (PBSO) for a couple of weeks.  It seemed that whenever the contact person tried to reach me, I had not been home.  Then last night, at roughly 9 pm, the phone rang and it was her.  Last night!  That was Saturday!  At 9 pm!  She spoke with me for 44 minutes.

I just had to write my post about that today because that showed service that is usually unheard of.  I don't care if you say it was part of her job or if she's getting paid over time (of either I have no proof).  The fact remains that she did not rest until she got in touch with me. 

She gave me some good advice and already has made me feel like I am moving forward.  It was nice to speak to someone so understanding...  someone who has not only gone through something similar but has also helped so many before me.  She has assured me that she will find a support parent for me and that I will be able to get 1:1 help shortly.

I also want to mention that I completed my Reiki Level 1 yesterday.  More on that later...

Something else worth mentionning...  I was asked my the Founder of SavvyAuntie.com to write an article on my experience a couple of weeks ago.  It is to be published on the website today.  If you're interested, please read the article by clicking here.

I was introduced to Reiki a couple of years ago by a close friend.  Since November, I have had the blessing of receiving several Reiki treatments by the warming hands of Mel. 

Essentially, Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy. The word Reiki is made of two Japanese words - Rei which means "God's Wisdom or the Higher Power" and Ki which is "life force energy". So Reiki is actually "spiritually guided life force energy." (www.reiki.org)


 You may or may not believe in the healing powers of Reiki, but I am living proof that it is a wonderful way to help heal the body and heart, especially while greiving.  I think that gifts like Reiki (and people) come around when you need them most. When going through a traumatic experience it's ok, and probably essential, to learn from it and take from it what you can.  For me, Reiki among others, has played an important role.
 
I registered for Reiki training a couple of months ago (after seeing the positive effect it had on me).  Starting tomorrow, I will know a lot more about Reiki and also be able to give Reiki treatments, all taught by a woman who has been doing Reiki for over 40 years.  I hope to be able to share Reiki with others, just as Mel has shared with me.

Hopefully my contact from the perinatal bereavement organization will be able to help me with making sense of all this... 

In life, when going through a particularly difficult time, I find it helps to look at the future in terms of steps.  This way, things don't feel too overwhelming.  Today I took such a step. 

As I drove to the office to meet with my boss, I felt nervous.  Realistically, we spend just as much (if not more) time with our co-workers than we do with family.  I like to concider these ladies (henceforth called the "JC girls".  And IT guy, if you're reading this, this includes you) my extended family.  So, I didn't have time to get teary-eyed as a walked through the doors, because I was welcomed with smiles and hugs.  I had a short meeting with my boss to discuss details of my return to work in -yikes!- less than three weeks.  I think it will be ok.  It is to be expected that I will have good days and bad days (see previous posts).  For the most part, these ladies understand and have all, including my boss, assured me that they will support me in any way they can. 

I have been thinking about work frequently recently.  I took this job roughly three years ago in hopes of moving up in the company.  But when I found out I was expecting, this job was perfect for a mom: nine to five and no work to bring home.  I admit, guilty, that because I am going to be working just to work now (and not to provide for a family), I thought that this job wasn't the best fit for me.  But sometimes, who you work with is more important that what you do.  It's a lesson I am reminded of every time I am surrounded by these quirky people...

We visited my sister this weekend.  It was the first time we took the highway that brings us to Toronto since our last follow-up appointment at Mount Sinai Hospital when we found out our baby was already gone.  I thought the drive was going to be the difficult part - sort of a retracing of the last steps we took before our whole world fell apart - but surprisingly it wasn't.  The hard part was taking out the suitcase, packing and ultimately unpacking it.  The suitcase reminded me of the little pijamas and diapers I had packed and had imagined that I would do again and again when travelling with our new baby.  Life's funny (not funny ha ha, but funny strange) that way.  You sometimes can't even predict your own reaction to things.  This worries me. 

I am meeting with my boss tomorrow to discuss my return to work.  This is suppose to happen in a little less than three weeks.  I am anxious.  I haven't walked through that door since November 5th.  I was supposed to return to work the following Monday but never did.  This is the reason I requested tomorrow's meeting.  I want to go for a "visit" before having to return permanently.  Hopefully this will ease the "blow" of facing yet another reality.  The one where I am working just to work and not to provide for my child (now that makes any job fulfilling!)

So lies ahead quite the day tomorrow.  I wonder what my reaction will be...

So, I just thought I would let you know... Seeing and holding Baby C has been effortless.  He is still the sweet and wonderful Godchild he was the last time I saw him.  Of course I wish he was here to meet his little cousin Adelle...  I have a feeling he has a very special guardian angel watching over him...

As for me, I have been in contact with the Perinatal Bereavement organization (PBSO).  I think this will be a very good thing.  Also, I have met another woman who has lost a baby and we have decided to meet... This is very important to me as I am, finally, facing my fears head-on.

Ever feel like you've been hit by a truck?  Then you look back to see what kind of truck it was but it drove away so fast you couldn't see anything except for the blurr?  I feel that this morning!  I've been crying so much, my head hurts and I feel nauseous.  I'm not sure what truck hit me...  might be that sleep is hard to get by or that some people have surprised me with their lack of sensitivity, or that the viel I've been hiding behind is slowly coming up and revealing what I've been avoiding at all cost to see or... or... or...  

Mostly, I think it's just that it's another day without my precious Adelle.  I think reality is setting in hard now.  It's not that I didn't realize she was gone or that I haven't been missing her.  It's more like the more days go by, the further she seems to be.  Lately, my dreams have not been of butterflies, but instead of a baby's distressed voice calling "Mommy!" over and over again and I know I can't get to her to help.

I am not giving up though.  I think it's time I try getting help from professionals.  So tomorrow I will call the Perinatal Bereavement (PBSO) and see if I can talk to a counsellor.  I've been avoiding this... thinking I could do this by myself.  I am not embarassed to admit that I am not. 

I am nervous and excited, my best friend is coming for a visit this week.  She is bringing Baby C, my Godchild (I haven't seen him since my baby shower.)  So, you may not see me for a few days but I will keep you posted as soon as I can. 

You would think things would get easier with time.  Just about everybody has promised me that.  I supposed that 2 days before the 3-month anniversary of your baby's passing, isn't really enough time.  I am relieved somewhat by this fact as today I try to remember her little kicks, then holding her little body in my arms.  Some of the details grow more fuzzy every day... that's why I wish time could just stand still for a moment.

Today I miss Adelle a lot...

I have very vivid dreams under regular circumstances... add a traumatic experience and voilà: the recipe for many more dreams (some good and some not so good).  I am one of the lucky who remembers their dreams after they wake.  Last night's dream, I feel, is like a metaphore for a part of my life.

In this particular dream, the Titanic made an appearance (you know it's gonna be bad when...).  The majestic vessel was well... majestic.  M & I stepped inside and set off on a voyage.  Inside the boat was old and rusty.  I don't think I am ruining any ending by saying that the boat started to fall apart all around us.  But M & I held on to each other and there was a feeling of safety and mostly of love.  This is when I woke.... 

I think I like this as a metaphor for our relationship.  Loosing Adelle might have made us feel like our lives were falling apart but we love each other and we will be ok.  I was afraid at first... sometimes events this big drive a couple apart but for us, I feel, it brought us closer.  I hope Adelle knows that she has made a big impact in our lives...  she saved the Titanic from sinking. 

One of the things that has bothered me since loosing Adelle, is the fact that I am now/once again/maybe forever (it's still too soon to decide to "try again")...childless.  My whole life women who are childless have been described as being selfish and have been accused of not understanding anything about family (or life in general).  I have heard the expression "she's not a mother so how would she know [about being tired]..." countless times from some women who are very close to me.  I wonder now, if I will ever be able to prove that I know, probably more than they think, about life and about raising a family.  It's not something that comes with an owners' manual and I know that M & I would have been great parents - the instinct and the love was (and still is) there. 

I bring this up, because I read a very inspiring article this morning.  The founder of the SavvyAuntie website interviewed Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, and she talks specifically about the selflessness of childless women.  I welcome you all to read this inspiring article:  http://bit.ly/boF8F1.