Survival

I survived Christmas Eve with the 50+ cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles and in-laws. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but I did skip the caroling with the children and hid away in my room for about an hour when things got to be too much for me. It was a nice time, but my daughter was still missing and I still pictured her with her cousins, despite my best efforts not to. A few of them are as old as she would have been, and it was hard to see them and wonder "why her? why not them?" As horrible as that sounds, it's what crosses my mind sometimes.

It's the end of another year, the first full year I've spent without my daughter. It's been 19 months since she died, and I can't believe I survived. When I think back on the early days after her death I am at once horrified, amazed and saddened all over again. My birthday was 2 weeks after her death and my father insisted on taking us to dinner. I thought it might be good to get out of the house for a little while, but had no idea how terrifying it would be to be in public again. I sat in the resturant fat and miserable, watching the fully-pregnant hostess seat people around us. She was all I could see. I remember nothing of the conversation, except constantly wiping tears from my eyes with my napkin. I remember going to the ladies' room and seeing this hugely fat person in the mirror, so obviously recently pregnant, and imagining the baby in the carrier I should have had. I had a hard time leaving the restroom. It felt so obvious to me that I was without a baby, like everyone in the world could tell I just had a baby. I cried all the way home. I didn't leave the house again for 6 weeks.

I went back to work after 8 weeks. Thankfully, I work from home and can schedule my appointments at my convenience. Unfortunately, sometimes a customer needs me and I have to be on their schedule. About 2 weeks after my return, one of my customer's salesmen called me for a joint sales lunch with a client. I work with 99% men in the construction industry - they have all been kind and sympathetic during my return - mostly they're uncomfortable and don't want to make me uncomfortable. It worked out well. Anyway, I met my customer and his customers (one of which was a size '0' petite woman) and sat down to lunch. After she stared at my post-partum belly, she asked "so how's the baby?" I was looking at my menu and felt a hot flash creep up my neck to my face. I thought she was asking me because she stared at my belly when we waited for a table. My colleague answered "He's fine. He's 6 weeks old today and mom & baby are great." I HAD NO IDEA HIS WIFE HAD A BABY. I thought I'd die. After that day, I started keeping X.anax in my purse just in case.

I remember one day during the first few weeks, my husband drove me to my psychiatrist's appointment and we planned to go for a 'walk' in a park where we liked to hike. Just to get out during the sunshine and get some fresh air. I came out of the Dr's office and just sobbed and sobbed that I was done - I wanted to die. I can never survive this - please let me die. I have never in my life felt so fucking crazy. I mean, truly out of my mind. I was screaming and crying and out of control and felt like my mind was breaking into little pieces. I couldn't make a coherent thought except that I needed to die to make this pain go away. I have no idea how my husband saved me from myself that day, but he did. I started anti-depressants that day and admitted to myself that I couldn't survive this without them.

All of these memories bring me to tears. Thinking of the excruciating emotional pain I was in while I was grieving - I still can't believe I'm here. I think I woke up every day for the first few weeks, sobbing that I wanted to kill myself to be with her. For several weeks afterwards, I couldn't sleep at all, except by taking an Ambien-CR and a X.anax together, which woul net me about 5 hrs of sleep. I was shaking from anxiety, heart racing, sweat pouring, tears flowing, all the while, breasts leaking. I learned to nap during baseball, because listening to the announcers was better than listening to the thoughts/voices that swirled in my tormented head. I never thought I'd sleep through the night again.

I can't believe I survived the past 19 months. 2008 was horrible, 2009 was just as bad. Now I am pregnant again, and although I'm very grateful to be pregnant again, I'm terrified of all the ways a baby can die inside of you. I hope 2010 will be a better year. I hope I won't have to go through this again, because I'm not sure I will survive a second time.