Monday 6 June 2011
It's not been the best start of the week for me. I had a terrible night's sleep last night with more vivid and upsetting nightmares about the miscarriage and losing future babies. I woke up at 3am and really struggled to calm myself down and I even had to wake the Boy at one point for a cuddle and some kind words as I was so distressed. It was well after 5am by the time I got back to sleep, and then the alarm went off at 6.30am as we were coming in from my parents house in Kent this morning. A very disjointed night which has left me feeling edgy, anxious - and above all, incredibly sad.
I had a lovely weekend with friends and family, spending quality time with my Dad in advance of his birthday on Thursday, so once again feeling gloomy has caught me rather by surprise. I try to reason why I don't feel myself - am I tired, is it the weather (the rain is pouring down as I write), am I anxious about anything... it's like I forget what the crux of the matter is or somehow think losing a baby isn't enough of a reason for me to feel so out of sorts, when of course it is.
I suppose because I have been generally doing so well, when my sadness catches me off guard I feel some confusion. My brain takes a moment to make sense of the unanticipated emotion. I think it expects my recovery to be a slow but steady upward curve, so when I stutter or fall backwards like this it's not always easy to make sense of it quickly. I need to find a way to let myself understand that it's bound to be like this sometimes. Grief doesn't follow a coherent pattern from A to B, and there will be times when I am doing really well, but also times - which will often be unexpected - when life feels tougher and even simple tasks feel impossible.
It seems when I feel low and vulnerable like this, the world conspires to remind me even more what I have lost. I was sat next to the Boy on a packed tube this morning when I noticed a quite obviously pregnant lady get on at Waterloo. I was praying for someone else to see her, but no one did - or feigned that 'commuter ignorance' that I so despise, seeing her there but pretending they haven't so they don't have to extend any human courtesy to a fellow passenger - so I got up and gave her my seat. She flashed such a grateful smile at me, it really hurt. I wish I was the one being offered seats - or not offered as the case may be! I would be almost 19 weeks now... It hurts how different my circumstances now are, and I guess it is going to take time for that to lessen and I have to try my best to keep hanging in there for just a bit longer.
I don't think it's helpful being unconnected to my physical self. I'm still not really sure what's going on. On Saturday I thought my cycle might be kicking in as I had a little spotting, but it disappeared just as quickly as it arrived so I'm not sure what to make of that. My internet research (yes, I know I shouldn't be doing this, move away from Dr Google!) suggests that it might be different the first few months after the miscarriage, but not this different. So I don't really know what's going on or where I'm at. It's all quite bewildering and frustrating, and I'm hoping over the course of our holiday - we go tomorrow - I will begin to feel more united again. I don't think I can move forwards when I feel so disjointed and unconnected.
So it seems our holiday has come at just the right time. I feel weak and fragile, and today is another one of those days when I'm sat in front of my PC trying my hardest not to let the tears out. But tomorrow is another day, as they say, and I will be heading off into the sunshine for a week with my beautiful Boy. I could certainly do with some re-energising. I hope it does us both the world of good.