Survey

I got a survey in the mail a few weeks ago. It was from my hospital and I had done one before when I finished the "Partial Hospitalization Program". I didn't think much of it since I've been a frequent visitor to the hospital because that's where I go for therapy.

I finally looked at it more closely the other day. It was from the Radiology department. They supposedly wanted to know how I felt about my visits back in April. So I filled it out.

It was oddly satisfying to let them have it. It was different from when I talked about it at Carol's seminar because that was at a different hospital, a different city. But this survey would give them insight into what goes on at my hospital, in my city.

I filled in the little circles and wrote more in the comment sections than space allowed and needed to continue at the bottom of the sheet. I wrote about my disgust regarding my treatment and all the things that I felt were done wrong, what wasn't said and what wasn't done at all. There was no compassion, no comforting word, nothing to ease the shock and pain of what was happening.

Sean was dead and there was no "I'm sorry".

A Few Changes

I changed the format of my blog, I didn't like how squished up it use to be. I think this looks better all stretched out.

I also changed my "what am I doing here..." blurb on the side bar. I really do feel that way.

I am mom to Isabella and Sean, this is just about the only place that I really feel comfortable talking about them.

And when I thought about it more, I almost wanted to say more there, but then it would just be a big run on, so here's my post:

I feel like I live two separate lives. There's the Shannon that pretty much everyone knows, the one that seems ok, seems to have it mostly together. Then there's the babylost Shannon. I feel like no one knows her. I feel like I hide her from nearly everyone in my non-blogging life because I don't think others can handle it. I know my in-laws can't handle it and I know some of my oldest friends can't handle it. So while losing Isabella and Sean were two very life changing events for me, I don't think I've let many see those changes.

I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of not wanting to offend people, I'm tired of feeling like I have to have a long drawn out converstation with each and every person that I might choose to tell about my babies. Not because I feel like they need all that information but like I need to justify myself. Like why should I still be upset about it, as if "it" wasn't a big deal.

Like Carol said, sometimes you don't have the emotional energy to take care of other people. I feel like by going about pretending there's no babylost Shannon, I'm worrying too much about taking care of other people. That no one would want to know that Shannon, like that Shannon is too much of a mess to be let out of the house.

I feel like I should come out of the babylost closet.

As Promised

After the Appreciation Dinner with Katie and Krista

Dressed up for the Party Friday Night

Wiggly

I'm all wiggly today. I'm part sleepy and part jumping around in my seat. I don't feel like being at work (do I ever??) and I just want to go home and take a nap or do anything else but be here.

The waiting has begun and the nasty progesterone suppositories. What fun. I should know by Christmas if I'll get what I really want this year. This being the season of miracles maybe I'll get one of my own.

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We had fun at the appreciation dinner last night, it was great hearing all the praise people had for my husband for all his hard work. Lots of shaking hands with directors, VP's, and other big-wigs of the company. Everyone had great things to say about my husband. I'm really proud.

Weekend

Where did the weekend go? It always goes by so fast. I have a long list of things I wanted to get done and I barely scratched the surface. I did do a lot so it wasn't a complete waste.

We finished baking our Christmas cookies, and assembled a package to send to friends in California, that will go out today. The others can wait a little longer.

I did a ton of laundry, and baked more apple pies (1 yet again for our neighbors). Sunday we went shopping for a few Christmas presents, and bought our Christmas cards.

I’ve been doing the ovulation strips, and I think it was positive yesterday so we’ve been trying a lot lately. Soon it will be the waiting game again.

This week will be busy. We have an appreciation dinner tomorrow night at a fancy place for all the work my husband did on a huge proposal (plus all the travelling), and the company wide holiday party is Friday night, I have a fabulous dress and amazing shoes to wear. I’ll have to be sure to take some pictures. So we’ll get two free meals this week.

The one thing I wanted to do this weekend and didn’t get to was crocheting Sean’s booties. I have a pair for Isabella that normally sit on my nightstand, but at Christmas I hang them on the tree next to her ornament. I want Sean to have his pair on the tree next to his sister’s.

More About Christmas

We talked more about it last night and I feel like I'm being guilted into going. The card he always plays is that his grandparents aren't going to be around that much longer. So if we don't go and they die soon, well, lots of guilt all around. I would feel bad about it, but the grandparents aren't much better than the parents. Actually they're more dismissive and invalidating. But I attribute that to them being old. Both grandmothers had two miscarriages, but things were different back then. It wasn't until I had it out with my husband's paternal grandmother that she let on that she was upset about her miscarriages. She said that she just didn't have time to grieve because she had her daughter at home and her husband to take care of. And she expected me to buck up or not get too down about it because I would just upset my husband. Like not upsetting him was my whole purpose in life. Sorry, but I'm not a housewife, I don't have a baby at home already and even if I did I would still be upset. So while people who've never had a loss can say horrible things, sometimes the people who have had losses think you should get through it just like they did.

It ain't the 50's anymore.

Christmas

I got really upset with my husband the other night. It seems that before/during/after visiting my in-laws we fight a lot. I just don't enjoy being there anymore. I get anxious before we go, I'm miserable while we're there and I'm still recovering from it even though we've been home for 5 days now.

A seemingly small thing happened Monday night and I flipped out. My husband knows how to push my buttons and then is always surprised when I react. In my anger I told him that I wasn't going to Christmas with his family. What a relief that would be.

Things have settled down between us, but amazingly when he brought up Christmas today at lunch time, he talked about it with uncertainty. "If" we go in for Christmas. I thought that was interesting. I'm starting to think "I might get away with this". This not going to the in-laws.

In newsletters from Share or Hospice it gives you tips for the holidays. Ways to remember your baby, things you can do to honor them. It also says not to do things that make you uncomfortable and to listen to and be gentle with yourself.

I think Christmas would be so much more comfortable if I spent it at home.

The Planets are Aligned

I'll take that as a good sign.

ive gone over to the bad place
i spend a lot of time there
i cant make anyone understand how i feel
i want to crawl into a hole
i want to cry and sob and scream until im hoarse
i want to go far away from here and never come back
i am defeated
i am lost

Carol's Blog and In-Laws

Carol's Blog is so comforting to me. I read her latest post this morning and left this comment:

It's the lack of words that hurt me the most. All weekend at my in-laws' house and not a word was mentioned about Isabella or Sean. It's so uncomfortable, so awkward that I can’t even bring them up because I know I will cry. I hate crying in front of them. Those people aren’t worth my tears. My husband’s grandmother on his mother’s side is extremely religious, that’s where his mom gets it. We were visiting with her on Friday afternoon and somehow the conversation turned to what she does over the course of the day since it takes her so long to do anything as she’ll be 84 in a few months. She mentioned her daily prayers and how she spends a half an hour or so praying the Rosary and praying for people who have died, and that there’s a special Mass for her uncle/cousin/someone coming up. I mentioned that we’ve had Mass Intentions done for Isabella and Sean, and she asked if that was even right. I realize that being old she has no clue how people feel about these things today. But just that she would ask such a thing, as if to say The Church doesn’t even recognize your loss so why would they bother doing anything to comfort you. Things like that are worse than the silence, so I guess I’ll stick with not talking about Isabella or Sean around them.

It seems to my husband's grandmother, it's not that Isabella or Sean never took a breath, or weren't born, it's that they weren't baptized. My husband and I had a long discussion about this on the walk back to his parents' house. A baby that dies before it is born can be assumed "baptized by intention". That means that had Isabella been born and lived we would have had her baptized. But also it seems to me that original sin isn't put on your soul until you are born when free will supposedly kicks in, so a baby that dies without taking a breath has no sin to be baptized from and therefore should go straight to heaven without any restriction. I'll have to contact a Canon Lawyer to really get into the meat of that.

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I'm happy that we came home on Saturday afternoon. I don't think I could have made it one more day. It's strange that I've come full circle. I use to dread the holidays because of my horrible father and all his craziness, then I enjoyed them because my husband's family was so wonderful and we had so much fun. Then Isabella died and it all changed. I'm back to dreading the holidays because we spend most of them with them.

The silence is deafening.