Adelle - Our Angel Baby

I realized something going back to work yesterday...  I will never be the same.  I suppose I have known this all along, but today I admitted it.  There is what I've deemed the "Pre-Adelle" and the "Post-Adelle" Mireille. 

I haven't quite figured out the details of who I've become yet.  All I know is that the Mireille I am now cries a lot and has an ache in her heart that just doesn't seem to go away.  Going back to work has brought back all kinds of feelings I had burried deep within myself a few weeks ago.  I suppose it's because I have to be "on" at work.  The lady I spoke to at PBSO explained it in these words:  "Hollywood could call on us anytime".  Parents who have lost their baby really are the best actors.  We put on our makeup and voilà... instant "normal" human being ready for a "normal" day at work.

I wish that I could just wear a sign that says "My baby girl passed away".  Maybe then it would avoid awkward situations (like the lady who caused me to breakdown yesterday when she asked me how my baby was). 

I suppose sometimes you have to face things head on and suffer through them so that, in turn, they become less intense.  I had promissed myself I would get Adelle a little "Gund" blanky.  So today, although it will not make sense to anyone else, I purchased the white lamb blanky.  I had never bought her anything and though it brought tears (again), it's something I felt compelled to do...  Something that didn't require me to wear a mask or pretend.  Instead, I could just be the Mireille who still missed her precious child every single day...

I've been keeping busy this week trying to get myself and the house organized before returning to work on Monday.  Have I mentionned how much this stresses me out?  True, true... I have also mentionned that I work with a dynamic group of ladies who "have my back" as they put it.  And they are certainly not the reason I am afraid to return. 

I am stressed because a) now it's officially been 17 weeks since we lost our little angel and it feels like so much more time has passed... b) just visiting the office a couple of weeks ago, when I saw what my replacement did to my desk - gasp! - nothing seemed the same [I know, you can't expect someone to work for months and not change things to be more productive... and "your" desk at work isn't really "yours" is it?] and c) what do I say when the clients ask: so how's your baby?  or (for new clients) how many children do you have? and as a result d) having breakdowns at the office... I don't like when people, especially strangers, see me cry.

I know I can make it through this.  It's another step I have to take and as much as I know deep down in my heart that it's time...  I also know it will be difficult.  And as someone in a Facebook group that I joined to commorate lost babies put it, I am emotionally drained already.  I mean, just vacuuming yesterday was quite the feat... I am not really sure how clean the floors are because my tears were blurring my vision.  What will I do when things get crazy at work?

As luck or fate would have it, I met with three friends yesterday...  Kind of like spirits of life past, present and future, though I am not sure which is which.  I was able to just let loose with the first who helped me smile after a morning full of sobs, then got great advice for my return to work from Sara who has had to do that recently (best advice that I feel she needs credit for:  when going back to work, take it one hour at a time instead of one day at a time - it will seem more manageable), then some energy healing from Melodie. 

It is with nervous anticipation that I prepare myself for this new step and I know it will be ok. As the Beatles said it "Oh I'll get by with a little help from my friends..."

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...