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Friday, March 30, 2012


Sometimes I feel like people are tiptoeing around me, afraid of how I will react to things. I feel like, child loss isn't a topic I'm allowed to discuss unless I'm educating people in the proper venue. If I respond to people at any other time I am told that I am being emotional or given the look that implies a pat on the head and a "Yes sweetie, we get it, you're sad." as if nothing I say holds any volume because I'm just another loss mom. I'm not allowed have a valid opinion on loss, because I've lost a child.
How does this make sense to people? And I try to express myself in a calm and assertive way, one the gets the point across without being overly emotional, but it doesn't matter because I'm one of them.
I liken it to zombies. People view loss moms in much the same way they view zombies. There are certain things that will bring us around, talking about loss, diminishing loss, losing a child yourself, we sense it and we come out in hoards. And when we pop up, people are afraid! They don't know what to do, what to say or how to react. So they whip out the only weapon they know will silence us, gas lighting. Making a loss mom feel like she's too emotional to understand, to know what she's saying, to think anything rational. You'll hear comments to an offender that has brought us about that run the line of "Good job, you've riled the loss moms!" And then, like a good zombie hunter, they whip out their weapon and fire..."Maybe this isn't the best topic for you dear...", "I know it's hard, but try not to be so emotional.", "Sweetie, you need to let go of this."
Yes, I have lost a child, and life is hard without her. And yes I will speak up when someone is ignorant about child loss and everything that the grief of it entails, but I'm not to be feared. My words may help someone, silencing the people that have been there is the worst idea. Making us feel like we are crazy, or too emotional to be the voice for the children we lost is not fair and we've been dealt a hand that grossly lacks in fairness to begin with. What I have to say has value, and what I have lost doesn't make me useless to this world. 

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Including Alexandra

Including Alexandra in our every day life has come fairly easily. Sometimes when we're out I wonder if people know what I'm doing when they see me pull out Alexandra's treasure bean and start taking pictures. Most people do glance, and I would gladly explain if they asked, but nobody ever has. I wonder though, if those people know what I'm doing, if they have a treasure bean of their own, if they're part of our loss family and I just haven't met them yet.
This weekend we went to Elbow Falls. Alexandra was there with us.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Sometimes it's not easy, even now.

I've been having a hard time lately. I think I have been neglecting myself a bit, not taking those moments to just be by myself and be sad, or happy, or just ok. Life gets busy and the world moves quickly around me. I try hard to not be bitter or unhappy with what life has given me, but sometimes those feelings creep in. These days especially, I am experiencing intense sadness over my inability to conceive a child. I don't know if I ever will, or why I haven't, or what I can do to speed things along for me, but it's hard to swallow that moment, every month when I realize, this month isn't going to be the one...again.
And you know how it seems like, when you really want something, everyone else has it? Well, that's how I've been feeling lately, everyone is pregnant and having babies, and I am so happy for all those people, I know what a gift a child is. But, under those happy feelings there's something else, a sad, sinking, feeling. This sharp pain deep in my chest, and the lump wells in my throat as I ask myself...will I ever be there again? Will I ever carry another child? Will I ever be taking my new baby home from the hospital?
Alexandra has been gone almost two years and I am so grateful for that way that she has touched my life. But some days I feel like I have not advanced one step from where I was the day she was born.