I am a bad babyloss mother. I admire with all my heart the tenacity with which the other babyloss mothers write on their blog about their lost babies, even after they have had the rainbow baby to distract from the topic and to cut their writing time available into shreds. I have not written about Adrian in a long time. On January 2 of this year, I almost forgot that it was his anniversary. I write this with great shame, and I am afraid of being judged and scolded by the other babyloss mothers, just as I am also afraid of being dismissed as not deserving of being part of the babyloss mama group. In fact, I have been removed off a couple of other women's blogs because, I guess, I don't really write a lot about my grief, and hey, I honestly don't become aware about my grief all that often.
Except you know what? I carry this grief in my own way. And my way might involve not bringing the pain to consciousness all that often. My way might be different. My baby has died. I have another one, and that brings me immense joy, and fills up a void that would otherwise suck my life in, and leave me devoid of energy, just like it did for one and a half years. But my first baby, Adrian, is dead, and his death is there, in my mind, forever. It comes up at times, often without much pain, but occasionally with heart-stabbing soreness. I suppress a lot of it, I know that. I become aware at how much I suppress at times like that. But maybe that is what I need to do. There is no telling of what is right and wrong, and I have felt a bit let down by the community when the links to my blog disappeared after I had Emma and stopped blogging so much about the loss of Adrian. I guess I felt less "accepted". That is not what matters the most, though. What matters the most is that I accepted myself less. As if I must be conforming to a certain pattern of behaviour, of blogging, of feeling, of remembering.
Yo, I do things my own way. I am saying this for my critical self, the one that chides me for being an inferior babyloss mama. I love Adrian with all my heart, even if sometimes I forget to dust his urn. I wish for him to be here just as much as always, even though I am so profoundly happy that Emma is, that I sometimes forget to be sad about the fact that he is not. And, if on the anniversary of his death I nearly forgot to light a candle and say a prayer, it is because I was to busy being happy and living my life, the way he would have wanted me to, the way I would have wanted him to. It is a fine balance between living on and remembering, and sometimes we do one better than the other, but nobody (lest of all ourselves) should be critical of how we handle this fine balance. It changes daily anyway. There will be days full of living in the present, and days of waddling in the past. We do the best we can. And we all deserve love, understanding, and the space to be who we are.
Now if only my critical self would listen and learn...
There are so many different ways to remember loved ones that have died. Even if your loved one was your baby - someone incredibly dear to you - it doesn't change the fact that people do things differently. You aren't inferior for the ways in which you do or do not remember Adrian. He is yours to remember the best way that you can.
ReplyDeleteI too have found my self struggling at times to honor and remember the two sons we lost all a while parenting Twins boys. There are times were days and weeks go by and then I realize that I was not "sad" about losing Connor and Matthew as much all a while enjoying the Twins. Then there are times when the emotions of losing two boys leave me feeling guilty of not being in the moment of cherishing the Twins here at home with me. I can only speak for me, however, there never goes a time when I dont acknowledge them. There never goes a time when I dont miss them. There never goes a time that I wouldnt want them here with me. However... I feel that in a way by honoring and cherishing their brothers here with me makes me honor and cherish their life that much more.
ReplyDeleteI love this post. There is no wrong way to grieve your loss, just like there is no wrong way to love your babies. And you are right, Adrian would want you to live your life and be happy, just as you are doing. I'm sure he knows you love him and that you carry him with you always. ((HUGS))
ReplyDeleteI wrote my post last night about my new nephew mainly because it was so strange for me to feel so sad. Usually I'm 'okay' not having Aidan here. I think about him every day, but his loss is not the focus of my life anymore. It was for awhile, but those crummy things you hate hearing when you first lose a baby "it takes time" or "life goes on", really are true. I have (mostly) healed. It doesn't mean I don't miss him, or don't wish he was here, but on a regular basis it doesn't hurt so much anymore.
ReplyDeleteOh that last comment was from me under my husband's account. I hate when blogger signs me out and signs him in without me noticing. Sorry!
ReplyDeleteI think that after awhile, the loss and grief becomes a part of yourself, and you don't notice it as much as you once did. When you think on it, it definitely brings that stabbing of pain and loss. When you are going about your daily life, that loss is always with you, you just might not notice.
ReplyDeleteI always liken the loss of my twins to the loss of a limb. The loss is permanent - that limb does not grow back. You learn to function without the limb, or get something that serves in place. Over time, you get so used to the limb being gone, that you don't think about it as much. But, you never really forget about it's absence - that piece of your life, of your heart is gone; you have just learned to function with the loss.
I don't think you are a bad babyloss mama. On the contrary - I think you are an exemplary example. You are living your life for your child, rather than dwelling on the pain, loss and "what-ifs" that can so easily creep into our minds and engross our lives. Just think about how difficult life could potentially be for your little one if she grew up with a mama who was constantly depressed and sad. You always hear the term "living with loss", and that is exactly what you are doing - you are living. The loss of your child will always be alive in you.
Oh God...I suppress/repress all sorts of things. Daily. I have become quite good at it too. Then sometimes, a song on the radio comes on or I walk past Xavier's picture and it all comes rushing back to me in spades. It's how I deal with the fact that my son died. We all have to get by every day, and get by we do.
ReplyDeleteI don't like the idea that you've been removed from blog lists, like Adrian may matter less to you because of Emma. That's a cruel assumption and really not fair.
There was a mod on BC who described her rainbow baby as a beautiful and wonderful distraction to her grief...I can't wait to have my own distraction, because right now, pregnancy after loss is just mostly confusing.
p.s. post more pictures of Emma...she is spectacularly beautiful :)
Frankly, I've never liked the term BLM, and honestly, I know so many who wear that as a badge of their courage and their struggle...I TOTALLY get that and would never take that from them...I just don't necessarily love being a BLM. I'm a mother who buried her child, yes, but he's not lost. He died. I know where he is. Sort of.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, my point is that we all grieve differently, and we all go through the process of healing differently, and even in the BLM community, sometimes, there's just judgement that I don't love. I don't really subscribe to it, and typically just keep my mouth shut if there is something with which I don't agree, but the reality is that I have a living child...my dead one does not worry about whether he is good enough in my eyes. But my living one may one day...if I do not let him know that while we love and miss his brother EVERY day, he is enough for us. His little life is just as valuable to me as his brother's, and I don't want him to grow up with a mommy who didn't give her whole heart to him. Yes, it's a different heart...a heart that's been broken and is scarred, but a heart that screams with glee over his life.
And if that makes me less of a BLM, well...I guess that's how things are.
So sorry for your loss.
hi! I'm here from IComLeavWe. First, I'm so sorry for your loss. I don't think you're a bad BLM at all! In fact, I hope to be able to get to a place where I don't think about my grief on a daily basis. Everyone handles their grief differently. I've met women who have had losses and were able to move on almost immediately. It has been exactly one year since I found out I lost my first baby due to a missed miscarraige and I still have days that I feel like I'm a wreck. I'm hoping that the rainbow baby I'm carrying now will help me move on. Will it mean that I'll forget about the baby girl I lost last year? No. But (hopefully) next month I'll have someone who is dependent on me and my love and that's going to take a priority.
ReplyDeleteEven if you don't write about Adrian, and even though his loss isn't in the forefront of your mind, it doesn't make you any less of a BLM or a person in general. You won't ever forget him. You're living your life and being a mother to his sister, and that is what he'd want you to do :)
Hi There! Visiting from ICLW..
ReplyDeleteWhat a great post. I am tring to find a balance of happiness for having my daughter and grieving the three I lost. This really made me stop and think about it.
I absolutely love the line you wrote "A heart that's broken and scarred, but a heart that screams with glee over his life"...It's so true.
You're no a bad babyloss mama! The calendar doesn't necessarily do it for me - but I get moments all the time where I remember and grieve for my lost boy. I just went to the GP to have a script filled, and she asked about checking my blood pressure. I had to tell her she can't because she was part of the events when I lost Blobby. Not that she did anything, just gave me a referral for a scan when I couldn't get in to see my OB, but I get flashbacks just seeing her. I feel so very sad and so lucky at the same time.
ReplyDeleteHi there, visting from ICLW. I could relate to this post- I've had two first trimester miscarriages, and while both hurt me unbearably, I've kind of accepted and made peace with it. I never ever wish that it could have been otherwise, because I see fate as being set in stone, when something happens, for good or bad, it is absolute.
ReplyDeleteI'll never ever forget them, though they only existed for a scant 6 weeks, but I did not remember my due dates. Yes I still cry that it happened, but I never wish they were here with me, because I've accepted it as not meant to be.
If and when I have a child, I'll know that is the child I was meant to have. We don't get choices in this matter at all, we only get to live with the decision that some other power makes. Does this make me a bad mother? I don't think so, but others possibly might, I can't say. But everybody goes through grief in their own way, and all of those individual ways should be respected.
Jay ICLW #14