Ramblings of My Heart and Soul

Maybe it’s time.

Maybe I really can’t do this alone.

My dad called this weekend and wanted to take me out to lunch. I went and after an hour of chit-chat, he asked the loaded question; “So… How are you?” What he was really fishing for is whether or not his actions following Raelyn’s death were contributing to my sadness. After spilling a deep, dark, family secret that I wish I didn’t know, he then used that story to justify his actions (never talking about her, not wanting to see her or pictures of her, not acknowledging that he has a biological granddaughter). Next, he proceeded to tell me that I am only 25 and that my life is not over yet. Apparently, I just need to quit trying, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. (Oh, and I also need to go to the gym, work out, and lose some weight so that I will be ready when the time comes. Thanks Dad!) When we were leaving Chili’s, he said “Be better. Relax and do whatever you need to do to be bright and shiny Dana again. Be better.”

Later, my husband tells me he wants us to be happy again. He wants us to be able to have fun and just be happy. I know how to be depressed or pregnant. There is no in between. Unfortunately, I really think my happiness is tied to a baby. I don’t know how to differentiate the two. I started trying to bring home a baby in April 2008. (I know that so many of you have waited even longer than this, and I am sorry for that. I cannot even imagine. I wish we could all have the families of our dreams today.) I don’t know how to move forward. It’s like reliving the same day every day. I wake up not pregnant and all day I am trying to think of ways that I can move in that direction. I am literally stuck. (TMI alert: Apparently AF will not be enticed with candy or progesterone. No clomid until then.) I am running out of time for a 2010 baby, not that that matters all that much, it’s just another failed milestone.

I am seriously considering counseling of some sort, but I am afraid of going to see someone at our church because of our past experiences. I don’t want everyone in the church to know what is going on, nor do I want someone to pat me on the head and tell me to just relax because this is all part of God’s plan to prosper me. I need someone to go to the dark place with me. To force me to remember and help me figure out why I can’t move forward. I need someone that I don’t know, but that I know I can trust. I need someone that I don’t have to see in my everyday life, but I need someone to whom I can relate. Have any of you sought help of any kind? Your words of experience are appreciated.

Maybe it’s time…

Really??

And I'm doing everything right??

Paraphrased quote from last night's Private Practice episode:

Depression isn't not knowing that you have something to live for. It is knowing that you should feel different, but you don't.

Hmmm... Yup.

I wanted to let you know about a giveaway that seems promising (and painless so I would probably try it even if it didn't sound promising :-) Kate over at Busted Plumbing is giving away an iPod shuffle with the Circle + Bloom Fertility Relaxation program loaded on it. I had never heard of this but the concept makes some sense. There is a free download that I now have, but I haven't listened to it yet.

I will let you know...

***Updated to add... I had a good cry and considered deleting the post, but I need to leave it to show myself that the bad days will come and that's okay, I'll get through. If you don't want to read my rant and possibly be very offended, you should stop here.



Today should have been her first birthday.

Lots of toys and dresses, family all around, first taste of cake and pink icing.

I should be finding the perfect dress for the Child Dedication Service next Sunday.

I am really not wallowing everyday, but little things like the dedication announcement throw me for a loop. Grief at 16 months is not what I would have imagined. Most times it is a dull ache and yet in an instant I am pierced through. It isn't so much that she is not here--it's that there is no one here. Raelyn is safe in Heaven's arms and I know that I will see her again, but I cannot fathom that 14 months of nothing-ness have passed. I know that it is unlikely that Raelyn would have made it to her first birthday, but she should have had a younger sibling by now. It could be so much worse. I know so many of you have had miscarriages that compound your loss or have been told that there is no hope for more children. I cannot imagine what you ladies are going through. I only know my personal struggles and for me, (please forgive me for what I am about to say), the nothing-ness is killing me. No answers, no alternatives to the plan. I am seeking help, but they can't even read my chart before speaking with me so that the nurse knows not to sound so cheery when she says "negative". I hate waiting for nothing. I hate planning my life around those never-ending two weeks. I hate that I am so angry at my own circumstances when there are so many other things that could go wrong. I hate that I can't even articulate my own feelings without sounding like a whiny child. I am angry that with all the technology in this world, doctors can't find a way to give us all what we really want. I hate that I can't even talk about my feelings and hunches and what might be going on at any given point because I don't want to get my husband's hopes up. I hate seeing him crushed month after month. I hate that I let my own hopes get up, only to drown again. I hate that relying on God is so hard sometimes.

I know I said in my last post that I was better and that I had some perspective on my own life and mortality, but... living with loss is a daily struggle to find the good, and some days, most days, I fail.

I have been feeling really down lately and have not posted because I didn't feel that I had anything new to say--just the same old sad complaints with one more failed month (with meds) to add to the list.

However, I found out this morning that a friend of mine was diagnosed with stage 3 invasive breast cancer. She is 25 years old (my age) and is in pharmacy school and planning her wedding for the end of the year.

I have no words. I cannot imagine. It's just not fair.

For all my complaining, I am still healthy and I have been blessed so far beyond what I deserve. I am going to try to be a more positive person and live life rather than just get through.

Please send up a prayer for my friend if you can.

I made it until the blessing before the meal (which only amounted to fifteen minutes) before I burst into tears. I cried silently through the prayer and dried my eyes enough to seem presentable through the mad rush to the dinner table while I was ducking into the back bedroom. My husband came and found me after a few minutes, but I told him to go away or I would cry harder. I got it together enough to make it through the rest of Christmas Eve dinner.

That should have been MY daughter that my dad held during the prayer. There should have been an eleven month old toddling around with the other kids. I should have filled my memory card with pictures of my own child, not someone elses kids.

I miss you, Raelyn, and I love you more than you will ever know.