My heart hurts today. I've been trying to work on Christmas planning, but it just hurts :( This really isn't getting any easier, but maybe it isn't supposed to yet. It makes me sad knowing that I won't be almost 7 months pregnant at Christmas like I was supposed to be. It's hard to be excited this year, and that's not like me. I'm trying though. I really am.
I'm still not back at work yet. I was meant to go back today but I extended it until Thursday. Had another setback yesterday but feeling better today. Seeing my ob on Weds so I guess I'll take it from there.
To be honest, I don't want to go back to work. Ever. I've come to realise that I'm actually not interested in having a career anymore. It's just not what I want from life now. Yes, I did the uni thing - to prove that I could. And because it was expected of me. And because I thought it was what I wanted. And I've landed in a pretty high-level position and I'm grateful for that. But now I feel empty and unsatisfied, and it's just not where I want to be. It's not what I want to be spending my life doing. My heart's just not in it. At all. And although I could not wish for a better team of people to work with, that just isn't enough.
I realised this the other day when I was reading forum posts from some ladies who are starting maternity leave, and they were saying that they had mixed feelings about putting their careers on hold. That surprised me. And I realised that I couldn't identify with that at all. I was hanging out for mat leave, and I couldn't wait to 'put my career on hold'. To be honest, I was secretly hoping to put it on hold indefinitely, and just find some nice part-time work in a little shop somewhere instead of going back. Much less money, but I've learned that there is much more to life than money.
Well anyway, obviously things haven't gone to plan and now I'm stuck there with no light at the end of the tunnel. Kym says I should hang in there and hopefully it will only be another 9 months or so til I can take mat leave for real. I'm finding it hard to be that optimistic. I just want to cry at the thought of going back :( I'm not the same person anymore. So much has changed in a year :(
Maybe it's not that I don't want a career - maybe I just don't want that career. I'm incredibly disillusioned with the public sector, and feel cheated and let down by some decisions that have been made. I am fed up with the red tape and all the rubbish I have to deal with just to be able to do my job. I do think I need to look elsewhere. I don't have the personality for this after all. I did law to prove that I could, but I think I've made my point.
But what on earth can I do now? Government is OUT. Private practice is OUT (I always said I didn't want to practice law and I meant it!). I hate and despise admin work, call centre work, and supermarket work. Out, out and out. Hmmm. A nice shop would be cool. Or a charity. Somewhere I actually care about. Or I could go to TAFE. I don't like TAFE - my experience with TAFE is that they are disorganised and annoying. But if it's a means to an end... I'd like to do something creative. Or perhaps something child-care related. Early Childhood Education would be nice, but that's at uni rather than TAFE. Not sure I want more uni... But I want a job where I can be myself, and where I can embrace my strengths and passions. Not feel squashed and conflicted because heaven forbid I disagree with the 'M'...
If I can get away from the stress and depression caused by work, then maybe our next pregnancy will actually be a success... Not that I blame work for losing Peanut - I don't. But I also don't feel like I'm in a very good place mentally to be TTC again... I don't feel refreshed. I feel exhausted and wrung out and unsure of everything.
I have a lot to think about. And no idea where to start :(
25 October 2010
21 October 2010
the healing power of sunshine
Summer is coming. It's definitely not far away now. I adore summer. Summer is the only reason I put up with the other three seasons. Give me baking hot 35+ degree days and extended daylignt all year round and I'd be in bliss. Sadly that's not the case, so I make the most of it while I've got it. As soon as I smell summer, I start to come to life.
Which is why I'm a bit annoyed at the timing of all this. I don't like to feel heavy-hearted coming into summer. Summer deserves better. It deserves a fanfare, a ticker-tape parade, and a red carpet. It normally gets all three from me (figuratively speaking, of course...). But so far this year I'm not feeling it. I'm not coming to life yet. Of course I know why. It's obvious. But knowing why doesn't change the fact that it sucks, and that it's overshadowing my favourite time of year.
I've only ever really had one depressing summer, where I just couldn't find any joy in the days at all. That was the summer of 2001-2002. Actually, the 2001 part was fine - it was the 2002 part that went to hell and had me in a very dark place. The reason? Bad relationship breakup and trust issues with friend who had set it up. Looking back, I'm actually glad it happened. It made me so much stronger and it made me appreciate Kym so much more. I can see now why it had to happen. But at the time it was just horrible... devastating... heartbreaking... like I could never ever be happy again. And every day of that summer was dark. If only I'd known.
I wonder if I'll be saying the same thing in a few years when I look back on this time. Although I don't think I could ever say 'I'm glad it happened' when I reflect on Peanut's short life. I will never, ever be glad about that, and I wish with every fibre of my being that she was still here. But I do hope that I'll be able to look back and understand why it happened. I already know this will help us to appreciate our children even more when we do have them. And I hope I'll be able to look at them and remind myself that if we hadn't lost Peanut then we wouldn't have been blessed with them instead. And maybe that will give me some peace, just in knowing that everything happens for a reason, and that somehow everything does work out the way it is supposed to.
Of course that doesn't make me feel any better about the here and now. Because right now I'm still in the dark place. Still aching for her, still wincing with pain when I see a pregnant woman, and still crying at all kinds of random triggers. Wahhhmbulance, anyone?
You might be wondering how long the dark place lasted in 2002 and how I got through it. The dark place lasted until late in the year - October to be precise. From January to October. 10 months. And how did I get through it? Going through the motions... getting through each day... focusing on the things I enjoyed in the hopes that they would eventually become enjoyable again... and then there was Kym. Amazing Kym going through the exact same thing. My old friend who I hadn't heard from in three years suddenly called me out of the blue. Both on the rebound, we were a couple by early November. Eight years later, we're still together, married, and disgustingly in love.
Which brings me full circle to the current situation. Good things come out of bad things. Bad things come out of good things. Life is so bizarre. But I know we'll get through this - we are so much stronger than this. Doesn't make it any easier and it sure as hell doesn't make it hurt any less. But at least we're in it together. To love and to cherish, so long as we both shall live, all this I vow and promise. That's more than a lot of people have. Just need to keep counting those blessings.
So. Today was better. Yesterday was a complete write off and I was a complete mess (I even skipped Zumba, that's how bad it was), but today was better. I made myself go out. I went to Marion, got my hair cut, had some major retail therapy, bought some birthday presents, spent way too much money and now can't pay the mortgage this fortnight (whoops), but I honestly couldn't care less (we're ahead anyway). It was necessary. And it actually helped me feel a bit better. I now have a new handbag which I think I love, and a new purse which I think I hate (damn...) which means I might now go out and buy another new purse and hopefully choose better this time. Or I might just learn to like the one I bought today. Meh. I also got cheap petrol. Win. I never get cheap petrol. Like, ever. But I did today. And the sun was out. The sun was beautiful and perfect. And it reminded me in its delicious way that summer is just around the corner. And then I went to Zumba. And I Zumba'd like an old woman, but I Zumba'd nonetheless. And it was good.
And while I'm still finding it hard to be happy about anything - even the things I would normally do backflips for (again, figuratively speaking...) such as summer and Christmas and the horse trials and Equitana, I also know that I shouldn't underestimate the healing powers of sunshine. And I'm sure that, as the warm sunny days and balmy evenings slowly wrap themselves around me, I will find my way out of this dark place. One step at a time.
Which is why I'm a bit annoyed at the timing of all this. I don't like to feel heavy-hearted coming into summer. Summer deserves better. It deserves a fanfare, a ticker-tape parade, and a red carpet. It normally gets all three from me (figuratively speaking, of course...). But so far this year I'm not feeling it. I'm not coming to life yet. Of course I know why. It's obvious. But knowing why doesn't change the fact that it sucks, and that it's overshadowing my favourite time of year.
I've only ever really had one depressing summer, where I just couldn't find any joy in the days at all. That was the summer of 2001-2002. Actually, the 2001 part was fine - it was the 2002 part that went to hell and had me in a very dark place. The reason? Bad relationship breakup and trust issues with friend who had set it up. Looking back, I'm actually glad it happened. It made me so much stronger and it made me appreciate Kym so much more. I can see now why it had to happen. But at the time it was just horrible... devastating... heartbreaking... like I could never ever be happy again. And every day of that summer was dark. If only I'd known.
I wonder if I'll be saying the same thing in a few years when I look back on this time. Although I don't think I could ever say 'I'm glad it happened' when I reflect on Peanut's short life. I will never, ever be glad about that, and I wish with every fibre of my being that she was still here. But I do hope that I'll be able to look back and understand why it happened. I already know this will help us to appreciate our children even more when we do have them. And I hope I'll be able to look at them and remind myself that if we hadn't lost Peanut then we wouldn't have been blessed with them instead. And maybe that will give me some peace, just in knowing that everything happens for a reason, and that somehow everything does work out the way it is supposed to.
Of course that doesn't make me feel any better about the here and now. Because right now I'm still in the dark place. Still aching for her, still wincing with pain when I see a pregnant woman, and still crying at all kinds of random triggers. Wahhhmbulance, anyone?
You might be wondering how long the dark place lasted in 2002 and how I got through it. The dark place lasted until late in the year - October to be precise. From January to October. 10 months. And how did I get through it? Going through the motions... getting through each day... focusing on the things I enjoyed in the hopes that they would eventually become enjoyable again... and then there was Kym. Amazing Kym going through the exact same thing. My old friend who I hadn't heard from in three years suddenly called me out of the blue. Both on the rebound, we were a couple by early November. Eight years later, we're still together, married, and disgustingly in love.
Which brings me full circle to the current situation. Good things come out of bad things. Bad things come out of good things. Life is so bizarre. But I know we'll get through this - we are so much stronger than this. Doesn't make it any easier and it sure as hell doesn't make it hurt any less. But at least we're in it together. To love and to cherish, so long as we both shall live, all this I vow and promise. That's more than a lot of people have. Just need to keep counting those blessings.
So. Today was better. Yesterday was a complete write off and I was a complete mess (I even skipped Zumba, that's how bad it was), but today was better. I made myself go out. I went to Marion, got my hair cut, had some major retail therapy, bought some birthday presents, spent way too much money and now can't pay the mortgage this fortnight (whoops), but I honestly couldn't care less (we're ahead anyway). It was necessary. And it actually helped me feel a bit better. I now have a new handbag which I think I love, and a new purse which I think I hate (damn...) which means I might now go out and buy another new purse and hopefully choose better this time. Or I might just learn to like the one I bought today. Meh. I also got cheap petrol. Win. I never get cheap petrol. Like, ever. But I did today. And the sun was out. The sun was beautiful and perfect. And it reminded me in its delicious way that summer is just around the corner. And then I went to Zumba. And I Zumba'd like an old woman, but I Zumba'd nonetheless. And it was good.
And while I'm still finding it hard to be happy about anything - even the things I would normally do backflips for (again, figuratively speaking...) such as summer and Christmas and the horse trials and Equitana, I also know that I shouldn't underestimate the healing powers of sunshine. And I'm sure that, as the warm sunny days and balmy evenings slowly wrap themselves around me, I will find my way out of this dark place. One step at a time.
17 October 2010
a setback...
So we hit another speedhump. This was never part of the plan. I never thought I'd be back here. But I am, so...
It's actually been two calendar months exactly today since the D&C. The first D&C, anyway (yeah... I'll get to that). Back on Tuesday 17 August 2010. I was a mess that day. But if you'd asked me then where I thought I would be on Sunday 17 October 2010, I would have been fairly sure that I'd have come a long way and that we would be ready to start trying again. And that would have been a reasonable expectation.
Alas. No. The last couple of months have been monumentally crud. Even by my standards.
So I'd been feeling awful for a long time, but had convinced myself it was all in my head. I didn't want to be the the hysterical post-miscarriage patient who turns into a hypochondriac at every twinge. So I took the proverbial cup of concrete and just kept going. Fast forward to 6 weeks post-D&C. Impatiently waiting for my cycle to resume, but feeling as though something wasn't quite right. So I did what most girls would do in that situation - I did a test. Not because I thought for one moment that I could be pregnant again (ha! I wish!) but because I wanted the negative test as a control for when we did start trying again. In theory it was a good idea. In practice it was an epic fail because the test was as positive as positive can be. The line was as strong (if not stronger) than the test when I was carrying Peanut.
Now, I did make a promise to myself that I wasn't going to curse on my blog. I need to remind myself of that so I don't repeat verbatim what I said when I saw those lines come up...
So. *sigh* I wasn't actually surprised to still be testing positive. I WAS, however, surprised and concerned to be testing THAT positive. Something wasn't right. And this is where it all started to go pear-shaped. My ob was away so it took a few days to get the ball rolling on what to do next. I was told to see my GP and get a blood test done. This was all fine but the long weekend made it impossible to see my GP for almost a week. Then it took a while to chase up the blood test results. All the while, I'm feeling worse and worse. Eventually my GP clinic's nurse calls me with blood test results and announces that they are positive. Clearly she didn't know the background... So I fill her in, she freaks out, and next thing I know there is another GP on the phone telling me to get a scan done NOW in case I've got an ectopic. Meanwhile, my ob was still away AND so was my regular GP.
o.O
I was 99.9999% sure that an ectopic wasn't the cause, but I still thought a scan sounded like a mighty fine idea. So I called Kym and off we went. And of course, this was a Friday afternoon. I got the scan result there and then - the D&C hadn't removed everything. This didn't surprise me. Why? Well, for starters, my ob had discussed this risk with me so I knew it was entirely possible. And also, I Google wayyyy too much. And remember I'd been feeling terrible for weeks. So Dr Google had already told me what the scan confirmed.
The results were sent through to my GP and to my ob. But remember it was Friday afternoon. And both my GP and my ob were away... so I had to wait until Monday for any action... Clearly the universe was trying to teach me patience.
So Monday afternoon I get a phone call from my ob, and she asked me to come in on Wednesday. And this is where I start to get emotional and foggy again. Because until now I'd still been putting one foot in front of the other, still slowly distancing myself from August and trying to heal myself and focus on the future. And this was taking me right back to where it all began. I wasn't emotionally ready to go there yet. I didn't think I'd be back there until I was pregnant again. Just the thought of going back there and not being pregnant yet made me want to curl into a ball. But I felt rotten. And I knew it was necessary. And I knew I couldn't be in better hands. So I agreed.
So Kym and I saw her on Weds morning. It wasn't a very long appointment. She had seen the scans and the blood test results (I'd had 3 blood tests in the last week) and she'd already told me the most likely course of action. So it was no surprise to be told I needed another D&C. I feebly attempted to have it scheduled for the following week due to my big Zumba weekend ahead. But who was I kidding? I felt like absolute crud and chances are I wouldn't have been well enough to Zumba properly anyway. So I backed down and agreed to Friday instead. And then went to work armed with antibiotics and the knowledge that I'd finally be able to collapse soon. I know it sounds crazy, but I was actually relieved.
And then it was pretty much history repeating itself, except that I had a bit more warning this time so I was able to get a few things in order at work and make arrangements for not being there. I told my team that I wasn't sure how long I would be off for. I didn't put a return date in my Out of Office message. I've learned from last time. Two months older, two months wiser, and two months more heartbroken.
Friday was fine I guess. Much the same as last time. I thought I'd be okay, actually. And I almost was - until I was in the holding area (I don't know what it's called?) just outside theatre waiting to go in. Then the tears started. And I couldn't stop them. All the memories just hit me, and I felt like I was losing her for the first time all over again. And I was discreet (I've become good at that over the last 2 months) but one of the nurses still noticed. Her name was Allie. She might have been a boss nurse... not sure. I have to say, the staff were wonderful to me. Allie let me wait in her office instead so I had some privacy. And she stayed with me and told me funny stories about her sister's kids to make me giggle. And then my ob came in with the anaesthetist, and they were both wonderful as well. I hope, if I ever need surgery again, I can have that same anaesthetist again, because she was just the best. I'm so grateful that I was surrounded by the right people when I needed them most. I didn't expect to fall apart so badly but I guess I should have known better. I had well and truly run out of concrete.
Recovery has been harder this time. I didn't feel good when I woke up, and it wasn't helped by my emotions being stupid. For some reason I had it in my head that it was the end of the world that I would never know whether Peanut was really a girl or a boy. So there were plenty more tears for a while there, but that settled and then I was okay. Apart from still feeling like crud, of course. I was quite sore afterwards and still am now (much worse than last time), but the painkillers make me really dizzy so I'm opting for the soreness instead. At least for now. I still don't feel well enough to drive, so Kym's having to drive me to Loui. Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.
Emotionally I'm in a bit of a black hole now. I'm starting to think that I might need to see a counsellor after all. I thought I'd be able to pull myself out of this, but now I have my doubts. I keep asking WHY - why did this have to happen? Why us? Why our first child? And I know that I'm being stupid. Worse things happen. And I'm lucky that there was no medical reason for it to happen and there is no reason why we shouldn't be able to have a healthy pregnancy next time. I'm lucky, dammit! But I still feel so lost. I feel like this is never going to end. I thought we'd be trying again by now, but I'm right back at the start again. I wonder if my body is ever going to fix itself and get back to normal, or if I'll be stuck in this vicious circle forever.
But most of all, I miss my little one. I should have been 20 weeks pregnant now. I should have been halfway through. But instead I'm back here again. I guess I'm still grieving badly for what should have been. And I look at Kym and I know what a wonderful dad he will be, and I just ache that I wasn't able to give him the baby we both adored so much. And I know that I will never stop feeling that way, because Peanut will always be our first child. And we'll always miss her and ache for her, and 5th March will always be a sad day for me now.
I keep telling myself that this was just a setback. The second D&C will have fixed everything. So my cycle should return to normal soon, and then we'll be able to try again. And then I'll be so happy to go back to my ob's office, because it will be for the right reasons again.
But that all feels like an impossible dream right now. I'm in a fog, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I just don't want to see anyone or do anything. I just want to cocoon myself in my home for a while and try to heal. Again. That's why I didn't put a return date on my Out of Office. My ob said I can take as long as I need. So did my manager. Last time I went back to work too soon. I wasn't ready but I didn't have a choice. This time I do. I've been struggling so badly for 8 weeks. So maybe this setback has actually been a blessing in disguise. I might finally get the time I need to heal.
God, I hope so.
It's actually been two calendar months exactly today since the D&C. The first D&C, anyway (yeah... I'll get to that). Back on Tuesday 17 August 2010. I was a mess that day. But if you'd asked me then where I thought I would be on Sunday 17 October 2010, I would have been fairly sure that I'd have come a long way and that we would be ready to start trying again. And that would have been a reasonable expectation.
Alas. No. The last couple of months have been monumentally crud. Even by my standards.
So I'd been feeling awful for a long time, but had convinced myself it was all in my head. I didn't want to be the the hysterical post-miscarriage patient who turns into a hypochondriac at every twinge. So I took the proverbial cup of concrete and just kept going. Fast forward to 6 weeks post-D&C. Impatiently waiting for my cycle to resume, but feeling as though something wasn't quite right. So I did what most girls would do in that situation - I did a test. Not because I thought for one moment that I could be pregnant again (ha! I wish!) but because I wanted the negative test as a control for when we did start trying again. In theory it was a good idea. In practice it was an epic fail because the test was as positive as positive can be. The line was as strong (if not stronger) than the test when I was carrying Peanut.
Now, I did make a promise to myself that I wasn't going to curse on my blog. I need to remind myself of that so I don't repeat verbatim what I said when I saw those lines come up...
So. *sigh* I wasn't actually surprised to still be testing positive. I WAS, however, surprised and concerned to be testing THAT positive. Something wasn't right. And this is where it all started to go pear-shaped. My ob was away so it took a few days to get the ball rolling on what to do next. I was told to see my GP and get a blood test done. This was all fine but the long weekend made it impossible to see my GP for almost a week. Then it took a while to chase up the blood test results. All the while, I'm feeling worse and worse. Eventually my GP clinic's nurse calls me with blood test results and announces that they are positive. Clearly she didn't know the background... So I fill her in, she freaks out, and next thing I know there is another GP on the phone telling me to get a scan done NOW in case I've got an ectopic. Meanwhile, my ob was still away AND so was my regular GP.
o.O
I was 99.9999% sure that an ectopic wasn't the cause, but I still thought a scan sounded like a mighty fine idea. So I called Kym and off we went. And of course, this was a Friday afternoon. I got the scan result there and then - the D&C hadn't removed everything. This didn't surprise me. Why? Well, for starters, my ob had discussed this risk with me so I knew it was entirely possible. And also, I Google wayyyy too much. And remember I'd been feeling terrible for weeks. So Dr Google had already told me what the scan confirmed.
The results were sent through to my GP and to my ob. But remember it was Friday afternoon. And both my GP and my ob were away... so I had to wait until Monday for any action... Clearly the universe was trying to teach me patience.
So Monday afternoon I get a phone call from my ob, and she asked me to come in on Wednesday. And this is where I start to get emotional and foggy again. Because until now I'd still been putting one foot in front of the other, still slowly distancing myself from August and trying to heal myself and focus on the future. And this was taking me right back to where it all began. I wasn't emotionally ready to go there yet. I didn't think I'd be back there until I was pregnant again. Just the thought of going back there and not being pregnant yet made me want to curl into a ball. But I felt rotten. And I knew it was necessary. And I knew I couldn't be in better hands. So I agreed.
So Kym and I saw her on Weds morning. It wasn't a very long appointment. She had seen the scans and the blood test results (I'd had 3 blood tests in the last week) and she'd already told me the most likely course of action. So it was no surprise to be told I needed another D&C. I feebly attempted to have it scheduled for the following week due to my big Zumba weekend ahead. But who was I kidding? I felt like absolute crud and chances are I wouldn't have been well enough to Zumba properly anyway. So I backed down and agreed to Friday instead. And then went to work armed with antibiotics and the knowledge that I'd finally be able to collapse soon. I know it sounds crazy, but I was actually relieved.
And then it was pretty much history repeating itself, except that I had a bit more warning this time so I was able to get a few things in order at work and make arrangements for not being there. I told my team that I wasn't sure how long I would be off for. I didn't put a return date in my Out of Office message. I've learned from last time. Two months older, two months wiser, and two months more heartbroken.
Friday was fine I guess. Much the same as last time. I thought I'd be okay, actually. And I almost was - until I was in the holding area (I don't know what it's called?) just outside theatre waiting to go in. Then the tears started. And I couldn't stop them. All the memories just hit me, and I felt like I was losing her for the first time all over again. And I was discreet (I've become good at that over the last 2 months) but one of the nurses still noticed. Her name was Allie. She might have been a boss nurse... not sure. I have to say, the staff were wonderful to me. Allie let me wait in her office instead so I had some privacy. And she stayed with me and told me funny stories about her sister's kids to make me giggle. And then my ob came in with the anaesthetist, and they were both wonderful as well. I hope, if I ever need surgery again, I can have that same anaesthetist again, because she was just the best. I'm so grateful that I was surrounded by the right people when I needed them most. I didn't expect to fall apart so badly but I guess I should have known better. I had well and truly run out of concrete.
Recovery has been harder this time. I didn't feel good when I woke up, and it wasn't helped by my emotions being stupid. For some reason I had it in my head that it was the end of the world that I would never know whether Peanut was really a girl or a boy. So there were plenty more tears for a while there, but that settled and then I was okay. Apart from still feeling like crud, of course. I was quite sore afterwards and still am now (much worse than last time), but the painkillers make me really dizzy so I'm opting for the soreness instead. At least for now. I still don't feel well enough to drive, so Kym's having to drive me to Loui. Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.
Emotionally I'm in a bit of a black hole now. I'm starting to think that I might need to see a counsellor after all. I thought I'd be able to pull myself out of this, but now I have my doubts. I keep asking WHY - why did this have to happen? Why us? Why our first child? And I know that I'm being stupid. Worse things happen. And I'm lucky that there was no medical reason for it to happen and there is no reason why we shouldn't be able to have a healthy pregnancy next time. I'm lucky, dammit! But I still feel so lost. I feel like this is never going to end. I thought we'd be trying again by now, but I'm right back at the start again. I wonder if my body is ever going to fix itself and get back to normal, or if I'll be stuck in this vicious circle forever.
But most of all, I miss my little one. I should have been 20 weeks pregnant now. I should have been halfway through. But instead I'm back here again. I guess I'm still grieving badly for what should have been. And I look at Kym and I know what a wonderful dad he will be, and I just ache that I wasn't able to give him the baby we both adored so much. And I know that I will never stop feeling that way, because Peanut will always be our first child. And we'll always miss her and ache for her, and 5th March will always be a sad day for me now.
I keep telling myself that this was just a setback. The second D&C will have fixed everything. So my cycle should return to normal soon, and then we'll be able to try again. And then I'll be so happy to go back to my ob's office, because it will be for the right reasons again.
But that all feels like an impossible dream right now. I'm in a fog, I'm tired, I'm sore, and I just don't want to see anyone or do anything. I just want to cocoon myself in my home for a while and try to heal. Again. That's why I didn't put a return date on my Out of Office. My ob said I can take as long as I need. So did my manager. Last time I went back to work too soon. I wasn't ready but I didn't have a choice. This time I do. I've been struggling so badly for 8 weeks. So maybe this setback has actually been a blessing in disguise. I might finally get the time I need to heal.
God, I hope so.
16 October 2010
So a lot has happened. And I'll update soon. But it's all quite raw and to be honest I'm feeling like I'm right back at the start of all this again. So I'm not quite ready to write it down yet. But soon.
To The Child I'll Never Know – by Gloria Dianne
How can I say goodbye
When I never said hello?
Why does my heart grieve
For the child I'll never know?
You were a part of me
For just a little while.
I grieve because I'll never see
The magic in your smile.
I grieve for all the unsaid words
That you will never say.
I grieve that I will never see
You happily at play.
I grieve for all the lullabies
That will remain unsung.
I grieve because I'll never see
Your face gleaming like the sun.
I grieve because you will never know
The comfort of my touch.
I grieve because you will never know
That you were loved so much.
I grieve for all the tomorrows
That will never be.
I grieve because God chose
To take you back from me.
You live among the Angels now
Your earthly mission done,
You will be so dearly missed
Goodbye my little one.
To The Child I'll Never Know – by Gloria Dianne
How can I say goodbye
When I never said hello?
Why does my heart grieve
For the child I'll never know?
You were a part of me
For just a little while.
I grieve because I'll never see
The magic in your smile.
I grieve for all the unsaid words
That you will never say.
I grieve that I will never see
You happily at play.
I grieve for all the lullabies
That will remain unsung.
I grieve because I'll never see
Your face gleaming like the sun.
I grieve because you will never know
The comfort of my touch.
I grieve because you will never know
That you were loved so much.
I grieve for all the tomorrows
That will never be.
I grieve because God chose
To take you back from me.
You live among the Angels now
Your earthly mission done,
You will be so dearly missed
Goodbye my little one.
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