Friday, 30 August 2013

Where I am now: all over the place

This post is all over the place!

It's been 4 months, 2 weeks and 2 days since I lost Lukas. Everything still feels so raw but yet it feels like it was so long ago now. I fear that time is going too fast and I hang on to my cherished memories of my son with all my heart, but I'm scared that one day he will be forgotten. It's almost like in some way I'm scared to move on from this phase of grief. Its no wonder they say that "you never get over Grief you just learn to live through it." I can see now what that means. I guess that grief over time changes, they say it gets easier to live with, I read stories with a hopeful heart that I too will be more at peace with  my loss one day.

It's difficult being a bereaved mother to a child in heaven. I feel like its my responsibility to keep his memory alive, I want to talk about him, I want to tell his story and share the joy he gave me through so much sadness but its not exactly the thing you just share with people. I wish my story was different , I wish I could carry Lukas in my arms so there would be no sad story to tell but there is and so I carry him in my heart and as much as I feel and know that he was alive to me I wish he could be alive to the world.

I'm floating in this crippled aftermath. I'm left battling my personal demons on my own. I feel stranded and alone in this sea of grief and if it may sound like I'm asking for attention or sympathy, I'm not. I'm just heartbroken, shattered and tired. Grief is tiresome, it's burns my soul and sometimes it's so burnt I feel like hiding from the world. The anxiety is creeping back and bringing me down at the most unexpected times. Grief has a way of sneaking in like that.
I'm doing things to help me through this. I have my counseling and my grief support. I find creative ways to heal myself, I read other stories online through a broad infant loss community which I'm so grateful for and I write. These things help but they do not mend me,at least not straight away, there is no magical cure for loosing a child, its a long tough road, so I'm told.

I'm living the same life but its not the same one. What was suppose to be a new norm for me : the life that was suppose to be, the life of having my baby at home, a life of revisiting maternal joy and the sounds of cries and giggles is gone. GONE just like that. It makes me question life a lot. This has changed my whole perspective of life. Life can trick you in to believing that everything is going to be OK straight though to actually feeling it. I had Lukas in my arms alive and crying and it was all taken away just like that. Like God had snapped his fingers and decided right then and there that Lukas was not suppose to be part of this world, its almost like we were teased, fooled and then robbed of our son. I'm battling my own haunting thoughts about that moment and not having answers has a lot do with this. I just don't know how much more longer I can take of my patience ticking away like a time bomb just for some dam answers.

Lukas's Prayer Flag for August 19th Day of Hope, I decided to go for a baby blue theme. Its all sewed onto one of the many "cuddlys" that my daughter was attached to as a baby and were passed down to her brother.  It was so therapeutic making this,I love it and its now hanging above his shelf among his many other special treasures. 

Friday, 16 August 2013

Trying to be strong

Yesterday was a hard day.
I've never been a confident public speaker, I remember being forced to do speeches in school and I would always have a mini anxiety attack before it was my turn to face a sea of crowded children all huddled up with their eyes piercing at me, the teacher in the corner like a giant observing my every move and word that came out of my mouth.
Something similar happened last night. I went to my first grief group counseling session. There were only 5 of us, all women from all different walks of life with all different stories to tell and not all of them were linked to a death. But all these women were experiencing a loss of some sort. 
We had to share our story of why we were there, I knew this was coming but I still didn't feel prepared enough to share it without my heart jumping out of my chest. I avoided going first, after hearing three stories and everyone already crying I had to share mine and so I did. I didn't drop one tear, its not because I didn't want to but I'm still trying to understand why I do this. When I attended a support group session for bereaved parents last month I did the same. I let my emotions flood into my head but I swallow my silent tears to avoid showing any kind of emotion in front of people I don't know.
Trying to be strong. 
Trying to be strong can take a toll on my body, I literally felt sick to my stomach after that. I bottled up my emotions in such an intense way I thought I was going to be sick. I came home, hiding it from my daughter and partner, but I couldn't hold on to it anymore and I cried, cried and cried. Everything came back flooding in and broke down the walls of my "trying be strong". 
A wave of emotions drown me and I  need to come to the surface to breathe every now and then. Crying is my breath of life. When it all gets too much sometimes and the strength is too overwhelming, crying is my way out, a fresh breath of air and then I'm OK until the next wave hits again. But among all this grief and tears I still manage to get up every time I get knocked down, among all this sadness and sorrow I'm still alive.

I'm still standing

We're still standing

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Dear Lukas

You are four months today and I cant help to wonder what life would have been like if you were here, I cant help to think about the things you would be doing now.
Would you be giggling?
Would you be sleeping into a routine?
I wonder if I would need to rock you to sleep just like how I did with your big sister when she was a baby. She would fall asleep to Coldplay every night, I wonder what music I would play for you?
Would we have moved you into your cot now? I bet you would have definitely out grown the bassinet by now!
I wonder how much you weigh?
I wonder what your sister would be doing with you right now? I'm sure she would be helping me with you, dressing you ,maybe even changing your smelly nappies.
I wonder how Dad would play with you?
Would you be bouncing about on the bouncer Wela got you?
Would we be taking daily strolls in the pram to pick up your sister from school?
I wonder how much hair you have now?
All these little things I wonder about.
I wonder about you all the time.
It makes me sad that we never got to do all these little things with you.
But I also feel happy that I can still love you, I cant be doing all these things I wish we could do together but I can still give you all my love..and that's pretty special.

Love Mummy

Friday, 9 August 2013

Hopes turned into dust

I've had a lot of in between time to reflect on things. I've been thinking back a lot lately on the miscarriage I had before falling pregnant with Lukas. I had never experienced a miscarriage before, it was scary, frightening and horrible. I had no control of what my body was doing. The day I fell pregnant with my jelly bean was a day of joy, happiness and good news. I texted Justin straight after the pregnancy test turned positive. We told everyone straight away. The day I lost jelly bean was a day of grief, sadness and shock. That day I noticed something was not right and I knew straight away that this was bad. I had gone to a midwife clinic and my GP only once when I noticed spotting a couple of days before. Both times at the midwife clinic and at  my GP the pregnancy test I took was still positive so I was hopeful, it actually never passed through my mind that there was a possibility of miscarrying.
When it was happening I called my friend and partner to tell them I had to urgently go to the hospital. We got there and I told them I think I was having a miscarriage, they took me in straight away. After waiting, required IV tubes and nurses checking on me, the docter came and gave me an examination, he did a scan and I will never forget those words " I'm sorry I can't see a baby" he then told me there was nothing anyone could do and I was to go home. Everything felt so clinical. I never got to find out how far along I was but I was at least 6/7 weeks. The grief I felt after that was hard, of course I was angry and sad but I said to myself that the pregnancy was not meant to be. I sometimes feel guilty that the grief I felt for jelly bean vanished quickly and disappeared when I fell pregnant with Lukas. But I'm also somewhat thankful it happened. If I never lost jelly bean I never would have enjoyed being pregnant the way I did. I never would have met my baby boy Lukas. But I also get mad. That after experiencing a miscarriage and feeling so sad I was once again so happy when I was pregnant with our baby boy. This was it. The baby we wanted. But it all took a different turn and once again our hopes were broken.
As time has gone past since Lukas flew away (3 months, 3 weeks and 5 days) I think about how life is so precious and unpredictable. I think about how life can be so unfair, and sometimes it's not in our control. Who decides to bring life into this world? Why was jellybean not meant to be? Why was Lukas taken away from his family that wanted him so much? Who grants life? All these questions but yet I wish no answer. If God is so good then why would he create life and possibilities in the first place only for it to be cruelly taken away? There is a poem that I have come across a few times and its called Gods Lent Children. I hate it. Is there dare I say a lesson to be learnt front this? I don't know. Perhaps. But what could possibly have to be learnt from loosing a pregnancy, from loosing a baby, a piece of my heart. Pieces of my heart that were filled with hope only for them to turn into dust.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Shaken up confidence.

So life is OK. Its not great but its livable. I don't think life will ever be the same for me. I often think about Lukas. There isn't a day where I don't wish he was here. I get reminded all the time of what we are missing out on, and its not fair. But what can I do? As much as I dwell on it, its not going to change and its not going to bring him back. I think about that day, the day he was born, where everything was perfect yet everything was not. I think about it and I have somehow come to terms with the events, its not to say I accept it , but its slowly interchanging from shock into it happened. I'm OK thinking about it and the loop of events has stopped in my head but its the missing part that is hard to live with. I'm missing a piece of my heart that will never mend because Lukas cannot be replaced. Missing Lukas is an everyday struggle and knowing that I will never get to see him again is heart breaking. I long so much to be his mum and I'm left with so much nurturing to give him but its impossible.
Everything that has happened has caused an emotional shake to my confidence. I was so confident when I was pregnant, I was so sure about everything, because well everything was actually going good.
I was confident that I was going to be the best mum I could be to Lukas, I was ready for the dirty nappies, the late nights, the love, the dreams, my baby. I was confident for everything that never happened. I'm not very confident now days, my self esteem has dropped. Some days I have plans to do something but I end up in tears because I just cant be bothered (and that's a nice way to put it) of actually looking a little bit nice, of facing the world. I just hate the way I look now. I miss my pregnant belly, its just an empty lifeless sac now.
I cant be bothered doing my hair, I cant be bothered wearing makeup. I hate shopping for clothes it just all feels like a waste of time. I know these things are not important, but I wish I wasn't so insecure about myself. 
So as much as I say that life is some what OK, I guess its not.

I've been hearing this song a lot lately. It was the song played at Lukas's service. His song goodbye.
After my counselling session last week it came up on the radio in the car while I was driving past the hospital where Lukas was born. So many thoughts were running through my head. That day was a hard one. The lyrics "This glorious sadness" mean so much to me. The glory of giving birth to my son but the sadness of having to say goodbye much too soon.