Sunday, April 14, 2013

Not enough

Sometimes it seems like my grief is not enough to some, my sadness not sufficiently passionate, my pain not shared and so they may forget that it is there or think I am unfeeling. 
I am not outwardly raging at the injustice, I am not weeping. I don't want people to see my hurt.
Almost a year and a half after her death my feelings for Saersha are a vulnerability that I try to protect from the world.
I steel myself, I talk about her but I don't let them see. It's only a few instances where I was held and cried and those were with my very closest people at the beginning.
In part this is because time as passed and I have healed a bit. Stellan has helped me a great deal. The thing is, though this is one of the most painful experiences of my life, this is not the first time I have gone through extreme trauma. My life was defined by it from 2 months old; I was neglected and abused. From that I have managed to become a functioning adult because I learned to draw from my inner strength rather than support from others, in fact I have always had to protect myself from others rather than trust that they could help me.
That said, I am tough but I'm not a rock.

At the same time now that Stellan is here, I want to connect with other moms and make little friends for him. Just as in pregnancy I am faced with the dilemma about what to share and when and how I will feel about what I say or don't say.
Also people have asked me about the early days with Stellan. Was I a crying mess? Was I overwhelmed? Did I think I couldn't handle it? Definitely there were moments of intensity and frustration and still are. There are also moments of guilt over my love for him. But compared to everything else, this is a dream. (Thankfully I have so far managed to avoid PPD and Stellan is pretty chill. I've been lucky in these things at least!)
That seems to offend sometimes too, people are looking for someone to relate to and even if I don't tell them about how/why I am so different, they are discomfited by my less stressed responses.

I guess all of these things come to a common point: don't judge me, and I will try to take my own advice.

4 comments:

  1. Oh, it's hard, isn't it? Navigating the grief and the expectations of others and trying to fit in and feeling like you don't. I have had some awkward conversations lately with people who want to talk about due dates and labour and blah blah blah and are visibly confused as to why someone as pregnant as me does not seem excited to be having those conversations. And I think, do I tell them? Do they want to know? Who knows.

    This little baby and I will be friends with you...!

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  2. Thank you Jen! In a way I am surprised that I actually care about any of this stuff. It just seems endemic in meeting new moms that they ask questions to suss out what kind of parent you are. Of course in my case I have made choices or what managed things in a way as a result of what happened to Saersha but I don't always want to get into it.
    I am also trying to reconnect with women who I haven't seen since Saersha died because they had babies at the same time and it seems sometimes there I am not broken enough!
    As much as I am glad that there are not more people who understand what we've been through, it sure makes it easier to talk to someone who has. I am looking forward to meeting your little guy. Hang in there!

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  3. You are grieving and living in the manner that is right for you, and that's what matters.

    I also wanted to say that I am sorry that abuse and neglect were inflicted on you as a helpless child.

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  4. Once again someone else said it better. This hits on some of what I was trying to get at Mommy Judging and Loss

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