Last day of freedom...

So, today is my last day of "maternity leave". It's going to be so scary to head back to work on Monday. It has been nice to use these 6 weeks off of work to get my mind and body straightened out again. The problem is that I am not 100%. I don't even know if I am 75%. It seems to be taking a long time to heal emotionally. I feel like I am okay - I mean I'm not breaking down crying every day. But, the problem is the anger. I seem to be harboring a lot of anger. I am angry when I hear about pregnant women. I am angry when I realize that I will not be giving birth to our baby in January. I no longer want to watch any of the pregnancy-related tv shows that I used to love to watch. I seem to want to abuse myself in some way as a punishment. I have been drinking and smoking which is uncommon for me. Even before I was pregnant, I would maybe drink a beer or two in a month. Now, it's daily. I am smoking daily too, which is unusual. Pre-pregnancy, I would really only smoke socially and probably only when I was drinking that one or two beers a month. I am not worried that I have a problem or anything - I just need to beat myself up a bit. It's really hard to explain why this happens, I just keep thinking that when I start trying to get pregnant again I will stop. For now though, it's okay. Let me beat myself up. It's part of the healing process.

My co-workers seem to be excited that I'm coming back. I guess that's nice. They are like family to me. The thing is, I don't really want to talk to many of my real family members right now, so it is pretty intimidating to be faced with my whole office seeing me on Monday. I am probably being dramatic - it feels like I will have a spot light on me when I walk around the office on Monday. Maybe, people haven't even noticed I was gone in the first place. Maybe, people have already forgotten what just happened to me. Maybe, just because I constantly am thinking about it, doesn't mean everyone else is. Maybe.

I just realized that a lot of my posts talk about the "maybe's". I wonder why that is? I guess I feel like I don't have any answers to anything anymore. And, "maybe" that's why I speculate about everything. Hopefully me getting back to work, getting into a routine and being part of society again will help eliminate some questions and alleviate some of my grief. Maybe this will help me become a normal person again. Maybe...

1 week down...

Well, I started blogging one week ago today. I can say that it has really helped. Maybe this is the equivalent of "journaling" that so many people swear by. I, myself, can't journal. I hate handwriting and I get impatient and bored with the process. But, its so much easier to journal electronically. You can type a thought, re-read it, erase or edit if necessary, and basically sound somewhat like an intelligent individual. I like that and I am finding that I love blogging. I don't have any followers (except maybe my husband) and that's just fine. I left my blog open to the public to read, just in case somebody happens to come across it and get something out of my ranting.

So, here I am, sitting with those darn dogs that got loose yesterday. I think everyone is finally cooling off from that emotional rollercoaster that yesterday's event brought on. I know I feel emotionally numb again - not in a bad way - just in a tired of thinking about stuff kind of way. I feel content however, and am planning to do something productive today. Maybe I can bring my donations over to Saver's. Maybe I'll go grocery shopping since I don't think my husband has anything to make for his lunches. Maybe I'll try to make some sort of dinner, too. I just don't want to be sitting around moping again today. I am going to make today a GREAT day!

Side note... I had another dream this morning about taking care of a baby that wasn't mine. This baby was an interracial child, probably about 6-9 months old and was possibly up for adoption. I think my mom was there with me helping me feed the baby corn (cut off the cob). I don't know what the heck these dreams mean, if anything. All I know is while I like having them I don't because I am always looking for the meanings of dreams. And these dreams I definitely don't understand...

Where are my dogs...

What an afternoon we've had. So, as I was deep in thought typing my last post, my husband called me. I was speaking with him on the phone and happened to brag about how quiet our 3 dogs were being in our back yard. He joked that maybe someone opened the gate and let them out. I laughed and decided I should go check on them. As I looked outside, I did not see any dogs. I walked out there and see the gate... wide open. "OH NO! The gate WAS open! The dogs are GONE!", I yelled into the phone. I quickly rushed back into the house to grab my car keys and start the search. As I am driving around yelling their names and asking random people on the street if they've seen any dogs, I am starting to freak out at the realization that my dogs could be gone. Not another tragedy. I was just talking about how I need to snap out of this - how am I going to get over the loss of Bethany if I now have to deal with the loss of my 3 best doggie friends. Oh God, I pled, please please please let me find my kids. What an awful feeling. I kept picturing that I would never see them again. Someone would see how great they are and keep them or they would get injured or killed. I can't lose them too. I just can't.

So, I kept driving. I was trying to think like the dogs. Where would they go? Ah... the park. But, they were not there. Luckily, I happened to ask some people sitting across the street from the park with their own dogs and voila! - they had the answer I was looking for. They said they had seen all 3 dogs and that they were picked up by Animal Control about an hour before. Whew! They were gonna be ok! They could come home again!!

Then a whole new feeling of despair came over me. The next wave of what if's. What if Gus bites the Animal Control officer? What if the officer isn't careful enough with Haley and she re-injures one of her back legs? Oh my... the what if's become endless. Sometimes I really wish I could turn off that what-if mechanism in my head.

Either way, everything worked out. We were able to pick the dogs up and bring them home. They all seem just fine. They probably enjoyed their adventure. I thank God that they are safe. I realized that I have some really great creatures in my life, both human and four-legged. I take for granted that they will always be around. This helped me to appreciate them just a little more. So, I am so thankful for the things I do have and not really thinking about what I don't. Hopefully, this realization lasts in my mind for awhile...

I have to snap out of this...

What a funk I seem to be in. Seriously. My body hurts. My brain hurts. My heart hurts. I'm bored yet don't really want to do anything. I was in bed until at least 11:00 this morning, then fell asleep on the recliner around 12:15, woke up around 12:45 and went back to bed around 1:00 until 2:15 or so. Ugh. What can I do to remedy this funk? One solution keeps coming to mind... start working out. That sounds great, in theory. I mean, wouldn't it be great to get myself into shape? Feel good about my looks? I definitely think it would help me to feel better on the inside - both physically and mentally. Heck yes! The problem is motivation. While all those perks I have listed are great motivating factors, one problem remains... I have NO DESIRE to actually do it. None. This is the reason that I titled this post "I have to snap out of this".

If I don't start forcing myself to feel better, I will continue to unravel. I am sometimes afraid of what will become of me. Am I depressed? Geez, I didn't think so, but maybe I really am and this is what it feels like. I was considering going online to research depression, but God knows I probably can't handle another problem. I feel just awful for my husband. Who in their right mind would want to deal with this on a daily basis? It's bad enough that I have to live with me! It scares me that he has the power to leave. I don't think he would leave me, but I can't understand why he would stick with me. He has started to immerse himself into maintaining our fish tanks. He researches stuff online, looks on Craigslist for more, and is constantly messing with the tanks. It starts to annoy me, but can I really blame him? I mean, it takes him away from reality... me. All I know is that I completely annoy the hell out of myself. How could I not annoy him?

But, then again, maybe its not about me at all. Maybe its his way of mourning or at least trying to work through the loss of the baby. Maybe its not about anything other than he likes to mess with the fish. Maybe I am the only one that has misery constantly on my mind! Ugh. I don't have the answers right now. Who knows if I ever will. All I do know is that I have to snap out of this. I have to.

In all sincerity, I really do not care that my husband messes with the fish tanks. In fact, I appreciate the fact that he is a person who likes to stay busy. He is always working on something. It is one of the things I admire about him. I often feel so lazy and unmotivated and then I watch him in action. Constant action. Maybe I'm just jealous...

Grrr...

I guess I'm just a crank. Whatever. So, I was just perusing my Facebook account and voila... one of my "friends" that is about 8 months along posted a status. She believes she may be "nesting" since she's planning to clean her messy house today. Then, she makes a comment that she'd rather be having her baby today, but that's probably not going to happen. She seems bummed that she needs to wait 3 more weeks. I have seen her complaining a couple of different times on FB about her pregnancy. She is a sweet girl - that I am not doubting. And, she is a great mother of 2 little girls. But, after my circumstances and losing my baby just about 4 weeks ago, I am apparently not sensitive to the discomfort that late pregnancy causes. Instead, I would give anything to be uncomfortable and tired and miserable and anxious to have my baby (at full term that is). So, instead of empathizing with her, I am annoyed with her. How dare she be so whiny! I should be whiny! I just had my baby DIE! And MY body killed her! At least she still has a baby in there! At least her body isn't expelling the baby for no apparent reason! At least she already has 2 cute little girls that can call her "mommy" and she can expect to have another child within the next month! Grrr...

Okay... I know this was a completely unreasonable rant and I'm sorry to my friend that I even had those thoughts. But, I guess I just needed to get it out of my head so that I can move on with my day. Uff da... whoever said time heals must have meant that it takes A LONG time to heal. I'm not feeling it quite yet... in fact I guess some triggers make it worse. Now I am going to pray for some forgiveness, patience and understanding :)

My dream this morning...

I just woke up from the most peaceful, comfortable and precious dream. In fact, I really didn't even want to wake up. It seemed I was in charge of taking care of a beautiful baby boy. I don't know if his mother was in the picture or not (it seemed as though she was and maybe we were just taking care of him while she was away). All I know is that a lot of members of my dad's extended family were at my parents' house to see this little bundle of joy. I was physically in tough shape (as if I had just had a baby myself). I was wearing comfy clothes that were disheveled from me wearing them for a day or two. I was exhausted yet happy. Everyone was encouraging me to eat and rest but all I wanted to do was take care of this little guy before he was taken away from me (assumingly by his mother). Some of the relatives were trying to help with the baby by getting him to eat and sleep. He seemed to only be content when I was holding him. I would stroke his back so lovingly and rock back and forth. He would start to drift off to sleep and it was the most beautiful and comforting feeling ever. Boy, did I love this child. I mean really love him. He was so sweet. I think his name may have been Colton. I remember thinking that if his mother didn't come back for him then maybe I can have him (maybe adopting him?). But, at the same time, it didn't feel as though that would even be necessary. He was already mine. I don't know - it was surreal. I woke up so sad that I couldn't be in that dream anymore because it was so nice to have a little baby to take care of. In the half hour since waking I have been crying. I don't even know what the heck is wrong with me - I know this was a dream but the feelings of utter love for this child were so real. Maybe I will have my own "Colton" some day...

Side note: The dream I had before this one I was getting attacked and bitten by lots of different creepy bugs. Man, I must be losing it!! lol :)

New to this...

Hello-

My name is Jennifer. I am 35 years old and married. I am new to blogging. Really, I have never even read blogs before I lost my baby. I saw the movie Julie and Julia which helped me to even understand the point of blogs and what blogging even was. I have also come across blogs in different internet searches, but never put much stock into them. Now, I find myself reading blogs whenever I need to remember that someone else has felt the pain I feel. And, it really does make me feel better - I am part of a whole new community now. The babyloss community.

Upon returning home after delivering my baby at 19 weeks resulting in her death, I was searching the internet looking for something to help me understand what just happened to me. I remembered that a girl that I have worked with on charity events had recently been featured on a local news story. She had been blogging on her own experience of babyloss just a couple of months before mine. I remember sitting there watching her news story (at the time I was about 12 weeks pregnant myself) thinking "I feel so sorry for her and her husband. She is such a sweet person and this is so tragic. How scary that something like this could happen, especially at 6 months along." I was also selfishly thinking "I hope and pray that nothing like this happens to me and I will have a healthy baby." Well, I guess my pregnancy would end tragically, too. So, I searched for her blog. I wanted to see what she had to say about her experience and wondered if it were at all similar to mine. Her circumstances were different, but our feelings seemed similar in many ways. We both expected to have healthy, full term babies to bring home and raise them to be wonderful people. Instead, we were both faced with having empty arms, empty nurseries, broken hearts and missing our little girls like crazy. Some of her letters to her baby were exactly how I was feeling too - only I hadn't even realized that I had those thoughts or feelings. I hadn't been able to grasp any thoughts yet - I was so numb. I had no idea I felt the same way she did until I read her words and completely sympathized with her. I found that she had created an organization called Faces of Loss Faces of Hope, where I read so many other broken hearted mother's stories about their own babyloss. I learned that reading other people's experiences can be painful yet cathartic.

So, here I am... blogging. It's because I need some help right now. I don't want to actually talk to anyone specifically about what's going on in my head, but I need to communicate it somehow. I'm not in a deep depression or anything, but I do feel down sometimes. I guess I'll try this and see what happens.

More to come, I guess... but, I can say that I am already feeling better.