Today was a hard day. We have bad days and not-so-bad days. I call them "not-so-bad" days because I don't know that any day will ever again be truly classifiable as good. Some days are bad, some are bearable, some are not-so-bad. Today, in particular was hard. It's strange to me that my husband and I seem to be swinging on the same emotional pendulum. I say strange, but I am very thankful for this. This means that when I am having a particularly hard day, he most likely is too. This is helpful because we haven't yet felt bad about "bringing down" the other. We've also had not-so-bad days together too. This is helpful because we don't feel guilty for smiling or laughing at something while the other is feeling low. K, my husband, is my rock. His very presence has a calming effect on me. I know with him by my side I will never ever be alone in this. He has told me that I am his rock and that he feels just the same about me. We are incredibly fortunate to have each other and to be so in sync with our grief. I have read about couples who drifted apart in the wake of such a tragedy. But K and I, we are different. We talk to each other, we support each other, and we love each other...always. Period. End of story.
So, today was a hard day. K left for work, as usual, at 7 AM. I was still in bed, trying to fall back to sleep after he kissed me goodbye and told me to call or email him at work should I need him for anything at all throughout the day. This was our morning routine now that I was home recovering and not back to work. About thirty minutes later my phone rang and it was K. I immediately panicked. At thirty minutes into his commute he definitely would not have made it to work yet. Immediately I thought he had been in an accident. Frantic, I answered the phone, asking him if he was ok, was he in an accident? He said he had not been in an accident but that he was very upset and missing Norah badly. He wasn't sure that he would be able to go in to work. He had already been back to work for four days the week before and he had made it through the previous day (a Monday), but I didn't care if he had only been back to work for five days. If he didn't feel good enough to go in there, I wanted him home. We decided it was best for him to just come home so we could cope with his feelings together and that he could try to get some work done from home if he felt a little better later in the day. I was so glad when he walked in the bedroom door and we were able to hold each other. He didn't really say much, but I knew holding me was what he needed and I was happy to give it to him. Unfortunately we couldn't stay entwined the whole day; I had a doctor appointment for an issue unrelated to my pregnancy and needed to leave a few hours later for that. This is where my day starts to take a downward turn...
Everything seemed fine as I waited to be seen by the doctor. I felt alright as I sat in the waiting room and filled out the necessary paperwork. As I was taken back to the exam room nothing seemed amiss. I was glad I had taken the initiative to make this appointment after several years of dealing with a cyst in my hand. I was glad to finally be getting it taken care of. As I sat in the chair of the exam room waiting for the doctor I was thinking of Norah, of course, about Kevin and if he was ok at home, and I was feeling that background sadness that I always feel, but overall I felt pretty ok, considering it had only been a month since we lost Norah. Then I heard the exam room door open, I looked toward the door, and I saw a huge pregnant belly enter the room. I swear, that's all I saw. I couldn't look up to see the face that belonged to this burgeoning belly, I could only gape, in horror, at what was coming steadily closer to me. I began to panic. I looked at the walls, the ceiling, the now-closed door...anywhere but at that belly. As the woman began to speak, she explained that she was a physician's assistant and that she would be doing my initial evaluation before the doctor saw me. I didn't hear anything after that because I began to sob. Luckily there was a box of tissues within reach and I thrust my hand in and grabbed a handful. The PA looked at me and asked if I was in pain from my hand. I started to explain to her that I had carried my baby full term but she had been still born and that we had lost her only a month ago. I told her that her condition was upsetting me. I was apologizing but for crying, but while I was apologizing I felt as though I didn't need to apologize for this. This was normal behavior and par for the course for anyone in my situation. She should have been sensitive to that too, being what looked to be at least seven months pregnant. However, she powered through my evaluation and I was left to sit there, inches from that taught belly inside a shirt so snug I could see its protruding belly button through it. I was in shock and horrified that this woman wouldn't have immediately left the room and found another PA to attend to me. Thankfully her initial evaluation wasn't too long and she left the room. I breathed a sigh of relief; now I would see the doctor and I could get the hell out of there. However, the ordeal wasn't finished yet. She accompanied the doctor BACK into the room and stayed after he left to answer any questions I had about the surgery the doctor had scheduled for me the next week. I couldn't even think about anything clearly enough to ask any meaningful questions. Truly, I just wanted to get out of there. I couldn't believe that God had once again slapped me so hard in the face like this. In the past week I had been dealing with situations involving pregnancy and babies in high volume. And all this at a time when I had been praying more than I had ever prayed in me LIFE. I truly did not understand why God was doing this to me when all I had been doing was begging him and my guardian angels to guide K and I safely through this terrible ordeal.
Lately, these are the issues I had been dealing with...
1 - I wanted to get a thank you card for people at work who had been helpful to us and for the funeral home who handled Norah's funeral at no cost to us (an absolute blessing). I searched for the thank you cards and, cruelly ironically enough, they were located DIRECTLY next to the "Congratulations on Your New Baby Girl" cards. I shit you not. To the immediate right of the thank you cards was a huge section of pink cards meant to mark the arrival of a brand new baby girl, which we OTHER people should have been buying and sending to US, but instead the only cards we were getting were sympathy cards and I was standing NEXT to the cards we SHOULD have been receiving to buy a THANK YOU CARD for people who were helping us deal with our daughter's passing. What a cruel fucking joke.
2 -The Friday after the Thank You card incident there was a large white envelope in the mail. I opened it and inside there was a thick guide on "Your Baby's First Year" as well as other congratulatory items. I began sobbing and promptly called the insurance company to request that we receive no more mail of that nature.
3 - That Sunday we actually tried going to church for the first time in years. The sermon was based on a passage in the Bible where God tells Abraham to offer up his son to Him as a sacrifice. The sermon talked a lot about babies and children and several rows behind us there was a small baby who fussed the entire time. K and I didn't make it through the whole service and had to leave early. Nice one, God. Thanks.
4 - The next day there was a mailer from Gerber in the mail. I have no idea why Gerber would be sending us anything. I had never signed up for Gerber or ANY other formula companies. I had planned to breastfeed exclusively. By the way, did I mention my milk isn't even completely dried up yet?
5 - There are increasingly more and more pregnant women and babies on TV. We only get thirteen channels. One day this past week three of those channels were blocked out and four of them were broadcasting shows with pregnant women or babies in them. What are the freaking odds?! You do the math.
So, if all this isn't horrible enough, to add insult to injury when I got home from my doctor appointment I had a voicemail. It was from a jewelry consultant I had booked a jewelry party with early on in my pregnancy. She had called because her "notes said I had had a baby and she wanted to congratulated me and see when I'd be ready to book another jewelry party." I texted her back with this. "Our daughter was stillborn. We are having a difficult time dealing with her loss. I will not be participating in any more jewelry events."
I am just SICK AND TIRED of this stuff happening to us. I am not going to sit idly by anymore and just let it happen. You can kick me when I'm down, but I'll only accept so much. After that point, I'm fighting back. So, that's where I'm at right now with all of this. Thoroughly sick of it all and ready to crawl into a hole and not come out for a long time.
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