Because now I am on the lookout for this

Time recently published this article on only children. Honestly, I think it could have been more in depth. Two things I didn't like were that the author was still technically undecided about having more kids, and that, of course, they didn't profile or even really talk about people who through no real choice of their own are having only one.

Clearly, this is a hot button topic for me. And, I actually have more to say on it, but no time right now. So, read it and tell me what you think. I should admit that I did not read the comments, because, quite frankly, I didn't have the nerve. I was afraid I would hear too many negative things about having an only.

And, on another note, my boss left this magazine article in my box at work with a note, saying, "read this and tell me what you think". She herself is the mother to one child, a son, now in young adulthood, though she had one child by choice. (Although, her husband was murdered when her boy was about 4, so...who knows what would have been had he lived? yes, sometimes we like to make inappropriate jokes about how bitter we are) Again, I would like to share my thoughts, but maybe in my next post, given my limited time today. But, please, I would love to hear what others think.

I've never had a problem on my blog before, but just in case, lets keep it nice and respectful, K?

Same road, different view

"Hi, I'm ms. g, and I have 2 dead babies."

It feels this way sometimes, like a 12 step meeting, and I have face facts that I, do in fact, have 2 dead babies. Because sometimes, I just honestly don't believe it. Sometimes, I can't believe that A made it. I want to ask her, what was her secret? How did she survive the disaster that is my body/womb?

Grief, the second time, can be so familiar on one hand, and yet, other times I am navigating in dark, new terrain.

You know that feeling that many of us have when our babies die? That we are the only ones this has ever happened to, that no one really understands us? I have that much worse now. So many people who had a loss around the same time as I lost M, have gone on to have the second after loss baby. And even those who haven't, still consider having another. I have not met very many people who are done through circumstances not their choosing. Then, there is A. I do have A, so I don't really fit in much with people who do not have their after loss baby yet. On top of that, when talking to people whose loss is new and they are trying again, I feel almost guilty telling my story. Hey! Here is something else to add to your worries, it CAN happen again, and you have living proof sitting right in front of you!!

As for the "regular" people, well, when I lost M, I thought they could make it difficult to grieve openly, because you know, they just didn't get it. Now, in hindsight, I think they were generous in their permission. Now, I get the, "Well, at least you have A", "Be thankful for A", "Just enjoy A", and my favorite, "Maybe god only meant for you to have A" (yes, this was actually said to me, although not by someone close to me, and I was able to roll my eyes and move on instead of falling apart) Sometimes, I find myself agreeing with them. When I forget to be kind to myself, I berate myself with negative messages about how I am not enjoying A enough, I am so busy being sad about what happened to me. When I remember kindness to myself, I can remind myself that I have the right to be sad, and that in fact, I can do both simultaneously, enjoy A and wish it were different.

It's hard to feel like I am back to being the neediest person I know. When you are going through loss, it can feel like you take, take and take some more from the people you are close to. You don't have much to give. That is okay, once. But, it can start to feel selfish when you are there again a mere 4 years after the first time.

Remembering two babies often feels too sad to me. When M died, I loved all the memorials to him. The pictures in my house, the jewelry, etc. Now, that stuff seems exhausting and too depressing to contemplate. I had a bracelet with M's name on it. Now I have an image of a woman with an armful of bracelets crawling up her arm. This feeling seems to be changing a bit with time. (don't they all change with time?) I have been considering getting a pencil portrait with my 2 boys together and putting that in house, and only that, as my one single remembrance of my lost family. Haven't really decided yet. I don't want to forget them, (is that even possible?) but the urge to focus exclusively on A is strong.

I'm navigating everyday the best I can.

Channeling Jackie

I was struggling at work the other day, and I started to think about Jackie Kennedy and her losses. I knew her last loss was a premature baby, and I started wondering how premature he was. I googled, and came up with this interesting piece. (I'm also wondering how far along she was with her stillborn daughter if anyone knows) It might sound strange, but often when I am having a hard time, I think of other people, who have hurt like this, and go on thriving, not just surviving. Of course, who really knows what private demons Jackie faced, but it helps me to reminded that you can go on, and maybe not be so bitter that it oozes out of you, repelling everyone you know.



The article says her baby Patrick was 5 weeks early. In this day and age, it doesn't seem like much does it? He was 4 lbs. 10 oz. when he was born, just about a pound or so more than M weighed. What was Jackie thinking when she realized she was going into labor? Did she have some small sliver of hope or did she already feel resigned to the possibility of tragedy given her other losses? I have to admit, I felt resigned to it, when I started to strongly suspect that this baby wasn't well. Of course, somewhere in the far, far back of my heart, I wanted to be wrong and have hope, but.....I already knew the truth. Babies do die, that fact doesn't shock me the way it did with M.



Did I ever tell the details of finding out with this last baby? I was scheduled for a special ultrasound. I just could not shake the feeling of dread a few days before my appointment. As soon as we got into the room, I mentioned my feeling. The u/s tech didn't exactly pooh-pooh me, but she said it was normal, given my experience. She turned on the machine and started to measure his head. I said, Can we please just check his heart? But I'm not sure why I asked, he already seemed to be too quiet. I KNEW. I knew before the u/s tech did, because I KNOW these things happen, and that a mother's dreadful feelings are not always just a product of fear, but a product of knowledge that can't be taught, but only learned through broken hearts and tears. So she moved the wand a bit, and I honestly think she thought she was going to be able to laugh teasingly at my feelings and reassure me. But the picture on the screen quickly shoved that giggle back down her throat. I KNEW. I didn't really need her to show me, except to verify what I felt so strongly.

Is that what happened to Jackie? When she felt those first stirrings of labor did she panic, or just prepare herself for more heartbreak? When her baby was born alive, was hope born again for Jackie as well? Did she start to think maybe there was a chance this baby was coming home?

And later, how did Jackie cope with all those other Kennedy babies? Not to mention whomever else she was around that was still having babies. We have friends who are planning to start trying next year. I have no idea how I will get through that. About 9 or 10 years ago, I had 2 friends who were die hard childless by choice women. What I wouldn't give for some friends like that now. Did Jackie ever wonder about the family she should have had? Did she ever feel bitter about the toll physically of multiple pregnancies but not as many children to show for them? My body certainly looks like I should have more children in my home. And it isn't just weight gain, its something else altogether. My hair isn't as shiny, my teeth not as white, I look tired enough for 4 pregnancies and 3 children in 4 years, but when you step into my home, only A's presence greets you. Though I am sure no one ever thinks this much about me, sometimes I wonder if people don't get my rundown looks, my tiredness, you know, considering I only have one child.

It might sound silly to some, but thinking of her, I did get through my work day okay, and I went home with positive thoughts of my future with only A, and the pure enjoyment I get when I am with her. I am a roller coaster ride of varying emotions, but I am working very hard at making a happy life with what I have got.