Monday, May 31, 2010

Back down a bit today. There's no particular thing that's wrong, except maybe that missing Michael when he's away is a hundred times harder to deal with since Kat died. The first time he had to go away after she died I just remember crying on the phone "I miss you and I miss Kat and I miss you". Missing two people at once isn't fun.

Not that there's any reason for this, but I've found myself dwelling a little today on the things I wish people wouldn't say or do after a loss like this. Firstly, I'm not depressed - I'm grieving. Don't try to cheer me up or take my mind off it or suggest that being busy or a change of scenery is good for me. My daughter died. That is not something I will get over, it's something I have to live with. I am living with it and I think I'm doing a good job of it. I also don't think there's such a thing as doing a bad job of it. Grief is grief and we all deal with it differently. Sometimes I feel better and sometimes I feel worse but most of all I need to be allowed to feel whatever it is I feel at any given moment. Secondly, I did not have a miscarriage. I did not "lose the baby". My heart goes out to people who have had miscarriages; I can't understand what it would be like because I've never had one. I will always be in a high risk category for miscarriage because I've had endometriosis and each time I've been pregnant I've been very aware of that and have held my breath throughout the first trimester, expecting that any day it's going to be all over. But I have never suffered a miscarriage. My daughter contracted a virus when I was pregnant with her and she died in utero. I have tortured myself with questioning whether or not she was in pain, whether she suffered. I'll never know the answer to that. I can only hope that her body slowed down until it reached the point that it stopped and that she didn't feel anything. This, I imagine, will be the single biggest tragedy in my life and I find I just don't want people in my life who seem to have the attitude that I lost the baby and it must have been for the best. I will never believe that Kathryn's death was for the best. I will always grieve for the life she didn't get to live.

2 comments:

  1. Hugs. I pretty much isolate myself from most people still and I think a lot of it is to do with avoiding the silly things people say. My coping threshold is also very low compared to what it used to be.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's harder to stay away from when it's family. My family was a bit divided in their reactions when Kat died, from my brother immediately booking a seat on the first flight he could get from Darwin (he left there at 1.00am) to my sister being awkward because she was the one before Kat died saying that she'd terminate if the amnio came back with negative results. And of the only cousins I know (I don't know my mum's family), one ignored an email I sent telling her about the tests we were going through then emailed a couple of days after Kat died saying I just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you as I was after your last email (yeah right, she just felt bad for ignoring the first one), one I just realised dropped me off facebook when Kat died (he's also known as my evil cousin which is probably why it took me 6 months to realise I hadn't seen any of his posts for a while) and one actually did take the trouble of writing me a note, which at least was nice. My aunt who bangs on and on about how important family is just said to dad on the phone "tell her I said sorry". I've had a few emails, all excited about the new baby and Michael and I being engaged and I just don't want anything to do with them.

    ReplyDelete