It Changes You

Grief can do very strange things to a person.

A few weeks ago, I hated my hair, and on a whim, I cut it myself in the bathroom the second I got out of the shower.  I went on a cleaning spree in my house, and threw tons of things away, including the positive pregnancy tests I had gotten with Tyrion, which I now regret to my core.  I wanted to throw out every baby thing in my house, but calm voices were able to talk me out of it.

I haven’t been able to pick up a book about birth in weeks.  Even looking at them makes me sick inside.  I used to enjoy, no crave, reading them every day, and now I try not to look at the shelf they are on.

I’m angry or sad all the time.  I just can’t get over it.  I have lost my patience with Glade, and I don’t know how to get it back.

I set up my doula site again with my rates.  I even had a lady contact me.  I wrote back and haven’t heard from her since.

I always wanted to do so much.  I wanted to start prenatal yoga where I live so women could have the option.  I wanted to start a support group for loss, but someone beat me to it.  I wanted to take a breastfeeding course so I could help women around here having breastfeeding issues, but I don’t have the drive.

I did a belly cast, which was amazing, and it always refreshes me to do things with pregnant women and bellies, but once I was home and away from it, the drive to put out I made them vanished.  I get to encapsulate a placenta in the next few weeks, and clean up after a birth, and I am so excited for it, but not like I used to be.

I never thought I would be so completely changed by a loss.  None of my other miscarriages hit me as hard as this last one.  Maybe it is because they were never more than clots and cramps, and this one was a baby.  Maybe it is because of my milk coming in, and pumping for two months.  Maybe it is because I got a positive pregnancy test on Wednesday, and then on my blood test, I wasn’t pregnant.

Maybe my wiring just became faulty, and I won’t ever be able to find myself again.

I used to breathe pregnancy and birth.  A day didn’t go by when I wasn’t researching something or talking to someone about it.  Now, I only think about it if someone mentions it.

My mind doesn’t automatically go to birth anymore.  And I want it back, and don’t think I can get it.

How long does grief last?  A month?  A year?  A lifetime?

I want to be myself, to be the birth geek that I am.  I don’t want to think about my lost births and experiences.  I want to be okay with our decision to not have more children.  I want to be able to throw myself back into this work with the drive I had before.

And I have no idea how to get back there.

Grief does strange things to people.  It changes you.  Forever.

Maybe eventually I will get back in the groove.  Maybe when the nightmares and the hurt stops.  Or maybe I just need to build the drive back the way I did in the beginning.  Maybe I just need to try a little harder.

But for now, I am changed.

And that terrifies me.


5 Responses

  1. Oh sweetie. Hugs.

    It does change you. I’ve had an early miscarriage and lost a 26 weeker. The miscarriage hurt badly, yes, but nothing compares to touching and holding your perfect baby and then burying him or her in the ground. Nothing. That’s not to diminish the pain of a very early miscarriage; it’s just a different experience altogether.

    I think the grief does last forever. Someone once told me a beautiful story about an 80 year old woman crying on the anniversary of the day she lost a baby, 60 years after the fact. I don’t think it ever goes away.

    The only thing that kept me going is E. I know I had him after my loss, so it’s a little different. But I try to remind myself often what a miracle he is. When I get frustrated with him, I ask myself “If I had B back, would I be mad at her for doing this??” I remember that I could have lost him just as easily. I try to be the woman I want him to think I am. I also try to be the woman I want B to see me as! I believe she’s aware of what I’m doing, and how would she feel if she knew she was the reason I gave up on something I had previously been passionate about? I remember in the weeks following her death, I made a special effort to get up and put on makeup every day. It was about the only thing I did, but I was not going to let B see me fall apart, even though she wasn’t with me.

    I don’t know if that makes any sense, but those are just some of the thoughts I have when I’m trying to get through my dark moments. I hope it helps a little bit. Love youuuu.

  2. Kayce, I dont think you will ever be the same. And it will always hurt. Some days it gets easier, and others it still sucks bad, but you just gotta keep fighting. I know Glade is driving you nuts being clingy, but either she needs her Mom, or you need her more than you realize. Cohen is one of the only things that got me through my losses. Some of the things you mention sound a lot like depression. I started getting treated for it after my last 2 losses and I cant even explain to you the difference it made in my life. I know you are pretty anti-medical-intervention, but it’s not a weakness to have depression, but you owe it to your daughter and husband to be the best mom you could be. I know that when I was in your shoes I didn’t show Cohen the best care I could. I sought help because of him, it was not his fault I was depressed, but I affected him deeply. So, after less than a year I’ve just weaned off my anti-depressants and I feel great. There are safe pills to take during TTC and pregnancy so if you are concerned about that just ask a doc. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all of this, but I promise you there’s a purpose to it all. I have no idea why I lost all mine, but I am confident there is a reason. It’s not a punishment, it’s not anything I did, and one day I hope to know why me. But until then, you just gotta keep having faith Girl, and don’t be angry with God. (I know you probably are, I definitely was…..) but he feels for you and knows every pain you are feeling and he’s just wanting to help you get through it. Hang in there, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel

  3. I have written and then deleted a few comments already. I can’t seem to find words to adequately express my love and concern for you. Just know you are thought of and prayed for often. Hang in there and let me know if/how I can help. *hugs*

  4. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write anything at all. Every once in a while I open a tab with a post I KNOW I want or need to comment on, and it’s just so difficult to know what to say that it just sits there, waiting for me.

    It certainly does change you. I don’t think the grief will ever go away, but it will get better. (Hugs)

  5. I have just found your blog. I am so very sorry for your loss and what you are going through. I was sexually assaulted at the age of 12, and it certainly has effected my births. As I read your post, tears were streaming down my face. I recently became a doula and hope to help women who have been through the same ordeal. I can’t understand how Dr.s think that they can do anything to a woman’s body, not treat her with respect, especially during such a difficult time. It really outrages me!!! You were violated. Have you considered making a complaint against him?
    I suspect that you may also be going through post traumatic stress. I hope you can find the support and help you need during this time. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

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