The Meltdown

Last night I had a meltdown. I probably cried the most I have cried since it all happened. The whole day was tough. It was tough having a zillion people around (all the family still here from Friday's memorial). It was tough because it was my due date and it was tough having The Band's sister talking about her pregnancy with such joy on her face*. For her birthday we gave her a book on pregnancy. The same book my mom gave me. As she paged through it I caught a glimpse of one of the pages and it brought back a flood of memories. Every 4 weeks in the book there is a picture of the size of your baby at that stage. I remember poring over that book. Holding it to my belly and imagining my baby inside.

I lay in my room and cried and cried. I cried til I couldn't breathe. I cried til my eyelids were swollen. I cried til I was exhausted. I cried til I had gotten full use of my dwindling tissue supply.

My dad came to the room and held me. I feel so bad for my folks. They are watching their child go through something no one should have to go through and they can't do anything about it. I think it is breaking their hearts. The Band too. He is powerless to help me. I love these three people but I can't feign strength. Sometimes I can be happy and fit in with everyone else as if life hasn't ended, but sometimes I can't.

I hate that life carries on. I have often thought about it and felt guilty for being happy when I've watched others go through pain. Life carries on more or less as normal for everyone else. It seems so... rude. It makes me downright p'd off to hear people laughing at an episode of stupid Top Gear. Yes, yes, I know. But still.

I think the thing that is weighing me down right now is that it feels like I am mourning alone. I knew my child. She was with me every day. I would splash my belly in the bath and she'd love it. When I was alone, I wasn't. She was always with me and I'd talk to her. The most she moved around was when I was singing at church - I choose to believe she was enjoying it :o)Sometimes if I couldn't sleep I'd prod her awake and we'd poke each other back and forth. I remember once flying back to CT and having excrutiating ear ache. If you've ever had bad bad ear ache on a flight you'll know that crying from the pain congests your nasal passages and makes the pain worse so you have to concentrate with all your strength to not cry. I was in the midst of this ear ache SUFFERING and she started prodding me. I would tap my stomach and she would kick in response. It felt like she was cheering me on "come on mom, we're nearly there. You can do it!"

But no one else knew her. No one else played bad 80's music to her amusement. No one else saw her in their dreams.

It feels like the sadness in others is sadness mainly for the Band and I and then for what might have been. Whereas I am missing HER for who she was.

Don't know if that makes any sense at all.

Sometimes it feels like I'm crazy. I'm mourning someone that no one else even really met. As if I had an imaginary friend.

Last night I dreamt that she wasn't dead. She was in East London with my mom. I dreamt that my heart was breaking coz after 2 weeks I still hadn't even fed my baby or bathed her or rocked her to sleep or changed a nappy, but I just had to get to East London and then I could do all that. I wasn't worried about her. I knew she was safe with my mom. But I was aching to be with her. I just needed to get there.

It was so cruel waking up. Hope was gone. But I've thought back to the dream through this morning and perhaps that is the bigger picture. I will get to be with my daughter one day in heaven. For now she is safe and cared for. I just need to hold tight til the day I get to be with her.

* now before you all think she's insensitive, she's not. She battled for absolute ages to fall pregnant and despite unsuccessful visits to fertility experts etc she was overjoyed for me when I was pregnant and she wasn't.