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  • Mrs Chakotay 12:48 pm on October 23, 2018 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: baby loss, , Dream Day Journal, , , LOA, , Morning Pages, , , ,   

    October Anniversaries 

    I’m feeling a bit out of sorts today. October is always a bit of a downer. Not only is it Baby Loss Awareness Month, but it is also the anniversary of my own personal loss – of my twins. Thankfully, the weather has not caught up with the seasons, so the bright sun and blue skies takes the edge off. It has been 8 years, so although the grief still comes in waves, they crash a little less often, and a little less powerfully. I’ve been waiting for the event to come up in my Facebook memories, but I may have hidden it. What is harder to hide, of course, is the anniversaries of my friends’ babies’ birthdays, reminding me that my twins ought to be coming up for 8 years old. It’s not just the baby you lose, it’s all their future lives you imagined and hoped for.

    I also received a reminder yesterday, telling me that this is my 8th anniversary of opening my WordPress account. I think that my original blog is now my very neglected Study Notes blog. I seem to remember that I was originally using it as a homeschool diary, but I shuffled the blogs around and the Homeschool diary is now at Ohana Home Educational.

    I wonder if it was a coincidence that I started a blog around the same time as my miscarriage? I don’t remember ever writing about it at the time. Instead, I wrote on Facebook until I was told I was “over-sharing”, at which point I took to Twitter and created what I perceived to be safer spaces there to rant and cry and let it all out. It helped. I remember the most helpful book I read at the time talked about letting grief out creatively. Perhaps writing was not what the book had in mind, but it was my default outlet, and I would recommend it.

    Today though, I don’t feel like doing much. I’m only really writing now because I want to get myself into the swing and habit of writing every day, for NaNoWriMo next month. It doesn’t really matter whether it’s worth reading. Most of my writing is mainly for my benefit – if anybody else enjoys it, or benefits from it in some way, that’s a bonus of course. But if you hate it, or just find it boring, it doesn’t matter. Just getting the practice in, and my feelings out, means it has served its purpose.

    I’m also getting into the habit of writing Morning Pages in the form of a “Dream Day Journal” – that is, I write every morning about my ideal dream day. It’s supposed to be some kind of powerful manifesting tool by Law of Attraction folks. I’m not sure I believe it, but again, it doesn’t matter. It’s just practice, and it’s quite fun so far.

    It can be dangerous to write thoughts and feelings on paper, so I do find that I censor myself. Most of my worst ranty, angry feelings are directed privately to my rant buddy. She’s good to have on my side.

    Where do you vent your feelings? Does writing help, or some other kind of creativity?

    Have there ever been times where social media didn’t feel a safe place to share?

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  • Mrs Chakotay 3:22 pm on August 9, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: baby loss, , , , , ,   

    Red Herrings  

    In May we started the process of buying a flat. It was beautiful and big, but it had no garden or parking, no garage or storage, and it would have necessitated moving towns amongst other things. It seemed like a good idea at the time – it was a nice town that we all liked and we already had friends there.

    But then I discovered that I was very unexpectedly pregnant and the lack of garden and parking suddenly seemed more problematic. The final decision not to go ahead was influenced by the fact that middle son felt very strongly indeed about changing schools (as in”I’d rather die!”) and daughter didn’t even get the place we had been assured was hers for the taking at Sixth Form in the same school.

    So we said goodbye to the lovely big flat, with no clear vision of where to go or any obvious options other than staying in the housing association house that’s so unsuitable.

    But then… I’m not pregnant anymore.

     I rather wish we had a move to look forward to, as the future is looking pretty bleak right now.

    This was my 6th loss through miscarriage and since I’m 45 now, there’s no guarantee at all that there will be any more pregnancies or even any more conception (this baby was 4 long years in the making).

    And so I’m beyond sad. I’m absolutely broken and bereft. I can’t see any light, only tunnel.

    And the worst thing about all this is that we weren’t really trying to conceive anymore. We had given up. And I was more or less, reluctantly resigned to the idea that there wouldn’t be any more babies. 

    But now? I can suddenly vividly remember the feeling I had after I lost my twins all those years ago – the feeling that I could more than understand the desperation of bereaved mothers who go on to steal other mothers’ babies. It becomes an all-consuming obsession to somehow obtain that which you cannot have.

    Despite my determination to think positively, look for the good and find treasure in the darkness this year, all I can see now is darkness.

    Was there any point in all this? Life seems to have a cruel and sick sense of humour. It seems to have been nothing but a red herring. But I don’t know anymore what I’m meant to be focusing on instead.

     
  • Mrs Chakotay 2:12 pm on October 17, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , baby loss, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,   

    Autumn Update 

    autumn

    When all my activities finished at the end of term before the summer holidays, I was relieved because I knew I had been overdoing things. But what I hadn’t realised was that when the adrenaline (or whatever) stopped, I would completely crash.

    I spend a lot of time determinedly denying that what I have is M.E. I have eight pages of notes to bash my GP with – there are so many other things that I should be tested for, that should be ruled out before they give up and diagnose M.E., so many things they should try, so many things they could offer before they tell me that “there’s nothing we can do”. But this thing of feeling terrible when you stop, this ‘post-exertional malaise’ is typical of M.E.

    The whole summer was essentially ruined because I was too ill to go out – despite living a few minutes’ drive from the beach, I wasn’t able to get there. I wasn’t even able to sit out in the garden. I haven’t been this ill for a long, long time.

    So I haven’t resumed Scouts or Guides, and I have given up Boys/ Girls Brigade, with no plans to take it up again any time soon. I had another reason for dropping Scouts and Guides – after nearly two years of volunteering, neither of them had bothered to do a CRB check (or DBS as I think they’re called now). Neither had they sent me for any training, despite me repeatedly asking for it and indicating that I was serious and wanted to be a uniformed officer. In fact, at one stage I was asked to take over the section I was working in, and I indicated that I would be interested to do it, with help, but the help wasn’t available.

    It seemed to be the case that it was completely up to the volunteer to ensure that they have the correct training and certification, and nobody seemed bothered. I wasn’t prepared to carry on in the position where, if something when wrong, I could be liable. That really isn’t acceptable.

    There were a lot of things about Scouts in particular that opened my eyes to bad practice and some of the inappropriate people involved in it, and I have to say that I would be very, very reluctant to put any young children of mine in a youth group that I hadn’t investigated thoroughly, or that I could perhaps be personally involved with. The willingness of parents to leave very young children with people who are really not at all suited to be working with children amazed me. The stress of that is something that I am very happy to be leaving behind.

    I have had approximately ten weeks rest now, and although I’m not really feeling better, I am hopeful that my GP is now willing to offer me something since he has discovered that my blood pressure has shot up suddenly (although he doesn’t know why – he likes to blame it on my weight, but I haven’t put any on in the last year, and this time last year it was basically perfect). I have no idea why, but hopefully some medication might start to make me feel more human again.

    Unfortunately, I am cross that in all that time, being unable to go to church, I haven’t had a single visit or even a phone call. I have been getting more and more cross about that as the weeks have gone on. I assumed that they knew how ill I was because my eldest son is a bell-ringer and sees them every week. But he told me last week that my husband told them I was “fine”. Because apparently, from experience, this is how he deals with things. They have to be private, nobody else is to know, in case we worry people. Please.

    Really, am I an awful person for wanting to tell people I am ill and need help? Should I be worrying, like he does, more about everybody else not worrying?!

    Needless to say, I have become progressively more depressed and distressed over the last ten weeks. But part of that is to do with having too much time on my own to dwell on all the trauma and distress from the events of the last few years. While I was busy, I thought I was moving on to a new normal. But now I am right back in that dark place of grief.

    I have continued to wonder about adoption. One of my online contacts had got to the point of being approved by panel, but then decided that she couldn’t go ahead. It’s huge. Taking on a traumatised child – even a baby – is so much more fraught with difficulty than having a baby yourself. If I manage to get my health to a point where I could consider going ahead, do I have the emotional strength to cope?

    Additionally I have had the stress of having to make a formal complaint about my boy’s paediatric diabetes team. I won’t bore you with the details right now, but suffice to say that we have elected to transfer hospitals in an effort to secure a better service. But this has been stressful and upsetting to say the least. But I have done it.

    I discovered today that my old friend’s wife, the one who made a fuss a few months ago that I hadn’t enthused about her pregnancy, has blocked me on both my accounts. I don’t care much about her to be quite brutally honest. She is a shallow, selfish character who would never even want to bother trying to see somebody else’s pain or point of view. I felt like sending him an angry, ranting message or unfriending / blocking him in retaliation. Instead, I just sent him a message telling him that I am sad.

    When you have lost babies, or have a sick child, or you have to deal with ill health, you are going to have some level of underlying sadness. I would love to just get happy. I want to live, I want a full life. I just wish I knew how.

    My next post will be happy, I promise.

     
    • orthodoxmom3 2:00 am on October 21, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      No you are not an awful person for wanting to tell people. That’s healthy. Your husband’s response is pretty normal to for men, in my experience. I pray you find answers to your health and other considerations in life very soon!

      Like

      • lillbjorne 8:08 pm on October 24, 2014 Permalink | Reply

        Thank-you! I think you are right about it being a difference in the way men and women relate – we need to talk! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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