Saturday, April 30, 2011
Pictures Are Up
I put up a few of the pictures from NILMDTS on a separate page so that nobody sees them who doesn't intend to. You can look at them here. I was most fond of the pictures with Josh, whereas he preferred the pictures with me. I wish I could post the slide-show with the music. It's my favorite.
Guilty
For the past several days I've been doing nothing but immersing myself in various baby loss blogs (well that and playing stupid arcade games on facebook), and I've noticed that most bereft parents feel a large amount of guilt, most of which is over things they had no control over whatsoever. However, among all the irrational guilty thoughts out there, I haven't seen the one that has been itching most annoyingly at my brain. It's a pretty crazy one, are you ready?
I feel guilty that I thought of it. I feel guilty that I sat there ahead of time and thought of the worst possible outcome and then it happened. It's not that I feel guilty for thinking such terrible things. No, I think that if I hadn't thought of it, it wouldn't have happened. If I didn't notice and obsess and worry so much and come up with the worst case scenario, then things would have gone on as normal, and she wouldn't have been dead inside of me. If I didn't panic and run off to the midwife there would have been nothing amiss to discover. I would have just kept on being pregnant and given birth to a live baby maybe a week or two ago.
And since I already know how ridiculous this thought is, and that it's complete and utter nonsense, and I still feel it anyway...how do you argue with that?
Maybe if I had started off with this little gem with my therapist she would have realized that I had a whole lot more crazy going on than being religiously oppressed.
I feel guilty that I thought of it. I feel guilty that I sat there ahead of time and thought of the worst possible outcome and then it happened. It's not that I feel guilty for thinking such terrible things. No, I think that if I hadn't thought of it, it wouldn't have happened. If I didn't notice and obsess and worry so much and come up with the worst case scenario, then things would have gone on as normal, and she wouldn't have been dead inside of me. If I didn't panic and run off to the midwife there would have been nothing amiss to discover. I would have just kept on being pregnant and given birth to a live baby maybe a week or two ago.
And since I already know how ridiculous this thought is, and that it's complete and utter nonsense, and I still feel it anyway...how do you argue with that?
Maybe if I had started off with this little gem with my therapist she would have realized that I had a whole lot more crazy going on than being religiously oppressed.
So What I'm Really Trying To Say Is.....
Maybe if I really just over the top post here, like several times a day, and put every little bit of nonsense that flows through my head, I can speed up this whole grieving process. Because I hate it. And the sooner I'm done with it the better....not that it probably works that way. But I feel like crap. All the time. And I want it done with. So if publicly embarrassing myself and turning off my "uncomfortable feelings" filter and obsessively posting, obnoxiously so, maybe one day I'll come over here and find I have nothing to say.
Getting Down With My Bad Self
So, yes, I've decided to give myself online therapy in the form of blogging and turning my mental/emotional battles into a spectator sport. I had to fire my therapist for being stupid. Here are my complaints about my (former) therapist:
1. At my first meeting wither her, she told me that 20% of all pregnancies result in miscarriage and maybe it was just my time. I have had a miscarriage, so A) I've already had my "time", B) I know that a miscarriage can be devastating but it is absolutely, unequivocally not the same experience as a stillbirth at 36 weeks, C) 20% of all pregnancies most certainly do NOT end with a nearly term healthy baby suffocating to death due to a knot in the cord. It's not just "one of those things" that many women of child-baring age have to go through. It's tragic. It's horrible. It's unexpected.
2. She thinks I'm a religious zealot. In discussing reasons why I think my baby might have died (in the more cosmic sense, obviously we know the physical reason), I put out there that maybe I wasn't doing a good enough job at getting my kids to heaven so God did it for me with Lillianna. I honestly can't imagine that it's that uncommon for a grieving parent to try to think of God-reasons along with a healthy dose of guilt as to why their child died, but in my case it apparently makes me a religious nut-job.
I discovered this when I was talking about some communication issues with my husband. I was looking for help on better ways to communicate with my husband when I am having anxiety (I'm crazy and I really torture him, though he'd never admit it). She immediately assumed that my issues stemmed from trying to live up to some religious ideal of submissiveness.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am quite comfortable saying anything and everything that is on my mind to my husband. Not only do I tell him what I think, I also tell him what I think he thinks, what he should be doing, insist that I know his brain better than he does and I'm mouthy and obnoxious and don't have much of a filter.
I tried to explain this to her, and she asked knowingly, "ah, but then do you feel guilty for saying what you think?" I admitted that if I said something truly mean or rude or hurtful then yes, I did feel guilty, but for the most part I usually don't go that far. She seemed thoroughly unconvinced.*
3. She asked about my Easter. I told her I had a wonderful Easter with my family and some very dear to my heart friends of the family. I told her we had tons of fun and we sang karaoke and we laughed and it was an overall positive experience.
She responded with a big smile and said "That's great! It looks like your depression may be starting to lift!"
I know I had to have looked utterly perplexed. Trying not to sound too argumentative (maybe I have some religious ideal about being submissive to therapists), I said, "Well, um, I've had depression for over 12 years now...." The unsaid part obviously being, "...and you seriously think that NOW, just after my baby died my depression has magically disappeared because I had a good Easter???? Idiot?!"
However, since she didn't hear the unsaid part she quickly explained that she meant the grief-related depression might be lifting. I didn't hear much of what she said for the remainder of the appointment. Apparently having a good time with close family and friends and grief are mutually exclusive. And it's perfectly reasonable for a doctor of psychology to think that it only takes a few weeks to get past.
And I rebel vehemently against this line of thought because I KNOW that my already fragile mental health is in a very precarious spot right now. I already know that I want to shut off the sadness and avoid the whole stupid grief thing, and I know that when I do my anxiety goes through the roof. I was talking with one of the few people who "gets" me recently who also also suffered some recent tragedy in her life and she said that she felt like a sociopath since some of these things have happened....completely unable to feel, and yes, extreme anxiety. That's exactly how I "feel".
And guess what? I actually WANT to be mentally healthy! For the first time in a long time I went into therapy with an open mind, ready to work on and discover the healthiest way to "grieve". I'm good enough at shutting myself down I don't need my therapist to do it for me. I'm not going to talk to most people about my "feelings" so if I do, especially if your my THERAPIST, don't dismiss them! Don't tell me that since I already have anxiety and depression I don't need to attribute my current anxiety and depression to the DEATH OF MY BABY - it could just be one of my normal depressive or anxious episodes and I shouldn't try to attach more meaning to it. But gee, the fact that I developed my long-term on-going anxiety and depression so many years ago directly after the deaths of loved ones....well no, why should the death of my own child exacerbate the problem?
So I do have qualms about sharing my "feelings". I genuinely fear people thinking that I am using my baby's death as an excuse to be the same unstable freak I have been for years. So maybe Qualmful isn't such a stupid name for this blog after all. But for my own sake, I'm going to force anything I have inside of me out through my fingers here. I'm going to be qualmless and shameless* and anyone who wants to know "how I'm doing" can find it here because I am utterly incapable of being this direct in person.
4. (I bet you thought I forgot about my list after that rant) She gets $50 every 15 minutes. And she only schedules 45 minute appointments. If I was going to pay someone that much money to be stupid I can just pay myself.
* Amusingly, to me anyway, after she suggested that I was too submissive I had Josh call and cancel my next appointment for me.
**Until such a time as I change my mind and refuse to share anything with anyone online or otherwise and least of all, myself.
1. At my first meeting wither her, she told me that 20% of all pregnancies result in miscarriage and maybe it was just my time. I have had a miscarriage, so A) I've already had my "time", B) I know that a miscarriage can be devastating but it is absolutely, unequivocally not the same experience as a stillbirth at 36 weeks, C) 20% of all pregnancies most certainly do NOT end with a nearly term healthy baby suffocating to death due to a knot in the cord. It's not just "one of those things" that many women of child-baring age have to go through. It's tragic. It's horrible. It's unexpected.
2. She thinks I'm a religious zealot. In discussing reasons why I think my baby might have died (in the more cosmic sense, obviously we know the physical reason), I put out there that maybe I wasn't doing a good enough job at getting my kids to heaven so God did it for me with Lillianna. I honestly can't imagine that it's that uncommon for a grieving parent to try to think of God-reasons along with a healthy dose of guilt as to why their child died, but in my case it apparently makes me a religious nut-job.
I discovered this when I was talking about some communication issues with my husband. I was looking for help on better ways to communicate with my husband when I am having anxiety (I'm crazy and I really torture him, though he'd never admit it). She immediately assumed that my issues stemmed from trying to live up to some religious ideal of submissiveness.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am quite comfortable saying anything and everything that is on my mind to my husband. Not only do I tell him what I think, I also tell him what I think he thinks, what he should be doing, insist that I know his brain better than he does and I'm mouthy and obnoxious and don't have much of a filter.
I tried to explain this to her, and she asked knowingly, "ah, but then do you feel guilty for saying what you think?" I admitted that if I said something truly mean or rude or hurtful then yes, I did feel guilty, but for the most part I usually don't go that far. She seemed thoroughly unconvinced.*
3. She asked about my Easter. I told her I had a wonderful Easter with my family and some very dear to my heart friends of the family. I told her we had tons of fun and we sang karaoke and we laughed and it was an overall positive experience.
She responded with a big smile and said "That's great! It looks like your depression may be starting to lift!"
I know I had to have looked utterly perplexed. Trying not to sound too argumentative (maybe I have some religious ideal about being submissive to therapists), I said, "Well, um, I've had depression for over 12 years now...." The unsaid part obviously being, "...and you seriously think that NOW, just after my baby died my depression has magically disappeared because I had a good Easter???? Idiot?!"
However, since she didn't hear the unsaid part she quickly explained that she meant the grief-related depression might be lifting. I didn't hear much of what she said for the remainder of the appointment. Apparently having a good time with close family and friends and grief are mutually exclusive. And it's perfectly reasonable for a doctor of psychology to think that it only takes a few weeks to get past.
And I rebel vehemently against this line of thought because I KNOW that my already fragile mental health is in a very precarious spot right now. I already know that I want to shut off the sadness and avoid the whole stupid grief thing, and I know that when I do my anxiety goes through the roof. I was talking with one of the few people who "gets" me recently who also also suffered some recent tragedy in her life and she said that she felt like a sociopath since some of these things have happened....completely unable to feel, and yes, extreme anxiety. That's exactly how I "feel".
And guess what? I actually WANT to be mentally healthy! For the first time in a long time I went into therapy with an open mind, ready to work on and discover the healthiest way to "grieve". I'm good enough at shutting myself down I don't need my therapist to do it for me. I'm not going to talk to most people about my "feelings" so if I do, especially if your my THERAPIST, don't dismiss them! Don't tell me that since I already have anxiety and depression I don't need to attribute my current anxiety and depression to the DEATH OF MY BABY - it could just be one of my normal depressive or anxious episodes and I shouldn't try to attach more meaning to it. But gee, the fact that I developed my long-term on-going anxiety and depression so many years ago directly after the deaths of loved ones....well no, why should the death of my own child exacerbate the problem?
So I do have qualms about sharing my "feelings". I genuinely fear people thinking that I am using my baby's death as an excuse to be the same unstable freak I have been for years. So maybe Qualmful isn't such a stupid name for this blog after all. But for my own sake, I'm going to force anything I have inside of me out through my fingers here. I'm going to be qualmless and shameless* and anyone who wants to know "how I'm doing" can find it here because I am utterly incapable of being this direct in person.
4. (I bet you thought I forgot about my list after that rant) She gets $50 every 15 minutes. And she only schedules 45 minute appointments. If I was going to pay someone that much money to be stupid I can just pay myself.
* Amusingly, to me anyway, after she suggested that I was too submissive I had Josh call and cancel my next appointment for me.
**Until such a time as I change my mind and refuse to share anything with anyone online or otherwise and least of all, myself.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Done-ish
Okay, so I just typed out my baby's birth story. As I re-read it I feel like I left lots out and at the same time I wrote too many inane details. I'm also not happy with a lot of my awkward wording. But I think the most important parts are there. I was going to put the beautiful slide show from NILMDTS on another page, but apparently it's in the wrong format so I can't upload it.
ETA, but I just watched it again and noticed that no matter how lovingly I caress my computer screen as her pictures go by, it feels nothing like my baby and my fingers feel stupid for having tried.
ETA, but I just watched it again and noticed that no matter how lovingly I caress my computer screen as her pictures go by, it feels nothing like my baby and my fingers feel stupid for having tried.
At A Loss
I wanted to write and share about my experience with the loss of my sweet baby, Lillianna Marie. I have no particular goal in mind and no vision for what this blog will be like. I just know that I'm lost and I'm stuck. I didn't want to put the sad stuff on my regular blog page and hopefully soon I will put a regular post up over there.
Maybe I'll figure out how to identify how I'm feeling by trying to write about it. Then again, maybe I will write angry complaints about the professionals who are supposed to be helping me and the stupid things they have said.
Right now though I am just at a loss. I don't know how I feel, though I assume this unpleasantness is probably "grief", whatever that is.
Okay, I just looked it up -
Maybe I'll figure out how to identify how I'm feeling by trying to write about it. Then again, maybe I will write angry complaints about the professionals who are supposed to be helping me and the stupid things they have said.
Right now though I am just at a loss. I don't know how I feel, though I assume this unpleasantness is probably "grief", whatever that is.
Okay, I just looked it up -
–noun
1.
keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.
2.
a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.
So I guess that is what I'm supposed to be doing and feeling.
So anyway, I guess I'll just set the bar really low and write this just for myself and whatever random things I want to put out there. Maybe I just need a pseudo-public way to let the world (in theory) know about my baby and know that I'm sad and miserable without her. Maybe I'll use this space to be overly dramatic and faux-deep. I don't know, it's my freaking blog and I'll do whatever I darn-well please - except, apparently, use real cuss words.
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