Thursday, July 14, 2016

Hate to Relate

Thank you for the sweet comments, ladies. I am so sorry for your losses as well. I certainly wish no woman had to feel pain like this. Your support means so much.

Life is going on, even thought I can't really understand how or why. I guess I feel like the whole world should have been effected by something like this, but of course it wasn't. I'm back to working and taking care of day to day responsibilities. I don't feel sad all the time. But I do think about it. I think about it a lot. It's not all horrible thoughts, sometimes it's more wistful. And resigned.

Tuesday I went to a support group that the surgery center told me about. It was at a different hospital, not the same as the surgery center. I was anxious about it, but I wasn't really sure why. I guess I worried I wouldn't fit it, or I would be a mess, I don't know. I guess I didn't know what to expect. But I felt like talking to people who know what I'm feeling right now would be helpful.

I got distracted and forgot to take the short cut to the hospital and then I couldn't figure out what entrance I was supposed to go in--I had a building number, but if it was on the building, I didn't see it.  Turns out, I needed to go into the main entrance. Anyway, all this meant I was a tiny bit late. The only consolation there was another woman arrived at the same time, so I was able to slip inside without too much awkwardness.  They handed me a sheet with some guidelines for the group, I grabbed a mini bottle of water (so smart, crying dehydrates me) and sat down next to a box of kleenex (thinking ahead, I was).

I started to describe the other's in attendance, but I feel weird about that. Suffice it to say, there were 5 other people there, plus a moderator (who works for the hospital). There were parents and grandparents and a mix of miscarriage stories and infant deaths.  Every story was heartbreaking. Most happened within the last year, but one grandmother had been attending the group for 17 years. She actually seemed to be helping the moderator some, as well.

When it was my turn, I barely got my name out before the tears came. I'd actually rehearsed what I'd say in the car. I had been rather stoic about it, which I found strange.  I eventually managed to get out the basics, that it had been two weeks since my miscarriage and D&C at 11 weeks. I can't remember what else I said, but I think it included mention of the boys.

The moderator then proceeded to call me brave.  I didn't feel brave.

Some talked a lot. Some talked a little. I think everyone cried at one point or another.  Their words resonated with me and I found them nodding in agreement to some of the things I said.  Other people really do get it. And I hate that they do, but at the same time, it's such a relief.

At one point, the moderator brought up a story about the woman who usually runs the group. She said that at her first meeting, when it was her time to introduce herself, she said she didn't belong here, that the others had experienced stillbirths or infant losses, and she had "only" had 2 miscarriages. She said that we should remember not to compare, that they are all losses. She said the others pointed out that they had had more time with their babies than she had, so in that way her loss was "worse".

That resonated with me, since I was feeling like my loss was smaller, less than some of theirs.  The group chimed in that they certainly did not feel that was true.

We talked about the hardest thing we'd had to do in the last month (or two weeks, in my case). Then toward the end of the meeting, we talked about the most helpful or best thing we'd done in the last month.  I said this group was the best moment for me. I meant it. It felt good, although good is not the right word.

The moderator knew I'd been at a different hospital, but she was able to give me some insight on the memorial we'll have in October and she very generously gave me some of the items they give out at her hospital to those who have had a miscarriage. She gave me a bear for Tyler (I appreciate it, but it went home and went into the closet, because I was afraid it would upset him right now), and a few little gifts that I'll describe in a post soon (they went into my memory box and I plan on doing a whole post about that).

At the end of the meeting, the woman who's about my age stopped me and asked if I was a member of a certain pregnancy forum. Turns out, I'd replied to a post there about local support in our city and she recognized me. She was very sweet and we're talked about getting together. Yesterday she actually offered to bring us dinner some evening, which completely blew me away. I told her we were covered there (Mom has that covered) but I hoped we could get together, nevertheless.

I definitely think that attending the group will be helpful for me.  And seeing how it helped, hearing how it helps the others made me feel good. I could see wanting to be involved in this. It reminds me of how I felt when we were doing fertility treatments. No one WANTS to be apart of that community, but now that I was I wanted to be involved, to help others.  And to help myself along the way.

Still no results from the doctor's office.  I just want to be done with limbo. I want to know or know I can't know.

1 comment:

Brianna said...

I'm so glad you went to the support group and that it was a good (is a support group ever good?) experience. I attended a local support group after Oscar and Bella died and didn't stop until we moved away. And you hit it right on when you said that the others there get it. They may not have experienced every single thing you have, but the loss of a dream and a life has similarities, regardless of how those dreams and lives ended.