Rebirth

I've been wanting to start a blog for a long time now, almost two years in fact, about our loss.  I hope that you are not reading this blog because of your loss, but if you are, know that there is one person who knows how you feel, Jesus Christ.  He understands how you feel, knows how you feel.  He's the only one that actually knows how you feel.  If you haven't lost a child, please be aware that there are more people in your life than you realize that have had a loss.  This is one of the reasons I started this blog, awareness.

Every loss is different for every person.  People in same families handle grief very differently from each other.  Sometimes, people may not even consider your loss a loss.  I know I was guilty of that years ago when my sister-in-law had a miscarriage.  I didn't see it as a big deal, and I still haven't experienced a miscarriage, but now I get it.  Losing a child through stillbirth is different, yes, but you still have dreams and hopes for an unborn child, no matter how far along you were.

I know many people don't consider our loss a loss, or even understand how we can still become grief-stricken two years later.    They may say that Max was never really alive, so therefore, he wasn't a real person.  We didn't really lose anyone.  But we did.  We lost our son; we lost the opportunity to watch him grow, to watch him learn, to watch him evolve.  He may not have been real to others, but I felt him grow inside me; I watched my belly get bigger day after day.  It's a hard loss, to constantly wonder if it was your fault, if there was anything you could have done differently to bring this child into the world safely, if there was something you did to cause this.  What if, what if, what if?  I don't know if those feelings will ever go away.  They have lessened over time, but there are days and moments when I feel my chest crushing at the loss of our second son, and I feel as though it's my fault.  Other days, I feel pretty "normal", but I think about Max on a daily basis.  I guess I'm just able to cope differently now.

I say differently, because I'm not sure it's actually better.  I think I've buried a lot of my feelings, and I'm hoping this blog will help me work through them, bring some of them to the surface of my consciousness.  My way of coping has been to stay super busy.  I think it's begun to wear on me.  When we moved to Louisiana and I was bored out of my mind, stuck at home, in the middle of nowhere, I kept busy by baking, cooking, and helping my husband grade assignments and tests.  I didn't let very many people get close to me there, and maybe that's because I wasn't ready to let others see my pain.  I ended up getting my CDL and driving a school bus, which I hated, but it distracted me from the pain I was feeling.  Then, we moved back to Utah and I once again kept myself busy by going back to school to get certified as a pharmacy technician.  I've completed that now, but continue to stay busy by coming up with projects to do, trying to go to the park with neighbors, etc.  Like I said, maybe not the best way to cope with our loss, but it's my way.

I've recently realized how much I've changed over the last two years.  I feel like I'm a completely new person.  I feel like losing Max has caused a rebirth in me.  I find myself not wanting to connect with friends in my past, because I'm just not the same person, and I don't know if they'll accept me as I am now.  Losing Max broke me, and I'm trying to find the new me.  I haven't discovered it yet, but I think I'm getting closer.  It's strange that I feel like the people in my past won't understand, and they'll be uncomfortable with my pain.  I don't feel that way with new people that I befriend.  Maybe it's that I can befriend people on my terms, that I can trust with my pain.  I'm sorry if I've pushed someone away.  I haven't consciously done so, and I'm trying to find the courage to reconnect.  Those friends from my past can probably help me find me again, honestly.  They knew who I was and what I wanted to become.  Maybe they can help me to define who the real me is. 

I ran across this link on Facebook and it describes almost perfectly how I feel: 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com.au/anne-maree-polimeni/we-need-to-talk-about-stillbirth/

I loved when she said this: 

"Stillbirth is different to other deaths. No one is going to sit down with you and laugh and talk about the good old times. You can't. There is nothing to reminisce but the kicks and activity inside your own body. There's nothing good that can come out of stillbirth, there's no upside. It's too difficult. And this is the reason that we don't talk about it.

"No one wants to put themselves in our shoes, they do not want to imagine our pain. I don't blame anyone. I don't want to be this person either. I used to avoid stillbirth too. But this is the exact reason we need to start this conversation. There are many families out there experiencing this same loss. If we start talking about it, there will be some positivity, because we will create awareness and only then can we begin to make it a health priority."

I hope this blog brings hope and light to the world.  I hope it will bring awareness to the world.  I hope I can help even one person with their grief.