Guilt is fairly common when dealing with child loss. And it's not just the personal aspects stemming from the events leading up to the loss that involve self blame, but this guilt extends to multiple avenues and in to some very different relationships. It can be difficult to navigate the relationships involved.
The first route of this guilt that I felt, and still feel most often, surrounds my relationships with my fellow loss community parents. We've all experienced the harrowing loss of a child. We've come together to support each other with this mutual understanding of pain, fear, and even jealousy toward the outside world of naive parents who haven't experienced a loss (and hopefully they never do, too). We cheer each other on when we are able to move forward and continue trying to build our families. And yet, not all of us have been able to move forward in this way. For many of us, it becomes a desperate struggle. We couldn't bring the lost child in to the world safely, so we must do things differently and get pregnant quickly and easily and have a healthy child. For me, the drive to do this was insane. I can't speak for the rest within my close group of the intensity of this drive, but for me, it was even stronger than my initial internal drive to have children before losing Korbin. But I have some very dear friends within my group that are still struggling, and it breaks my heart. They want a child with them just like any of us, but they haven't experienced the success of bringing one in to this world just yet. And it makes me feel so guilty that I get to have P. We're all friends on social media, where I want to share P's successes daily, but I also find myself holding back knowing there are others out there who want to be sharing the same things, but are not able to (hopefully just yet). I totally understand the feeling of jealousy toward those that have children, especially when we were without after leaving the hospital from Korbin's birth. Because I can understand from what I was feeling in that time before P, I can only try to imagine how it has intensified over time as so many around them have finally had children without them, and are continuing to do so. Each success must be a blow to their fragile hearts. They are just the sweetest, kindest, people. But I totally get it when they don't show up to the rainbow baby filled events the rest of us have these days. And man, that guilt though.
The next guilt I experienced, was from finding out some dear friends were stopping their fertility journey despite not having children from it. This one cuts hard and deep as I work in the fertility world and I want joy for every patient I work with. Granted, I'm in the lab, which is a bit removed clinically from the patient care. But every specimen, every case, we hope brings joy to the patients involved. And it is so disheartening when it doesn't. As I was telling some who just revealed the end to their fertility journey recently, we specialists hope for success for every patient who comes through our clinic, and it is so hard for us to accept that there wasn't anything we could do to help some. We want to think we have all the answers, can solve all the problems. But nothing, sadly, is one hundred percent. I feel especially touched by these losses having suffered a loss myself, which deepens my empathy toward the families dealing with this. And yet, I also recognize that it is not the same. We can get pregnant with ease, we've cleared that hurdle without issues. These people have not even been allowed that joy. While it hurts to know others experience loss as well (something I wouldn't even wish upon my worst enemy), their loss seems, to me, even deeper. And I don't know how to connect with that. I want to support their pain, but I tread lightly not knowing the right things to say. God forbid I ask about adoption or fostering, donor eggs or embryos. It's the natural next questions to ask, and yet I can remember being asked those questions after Korbin and feeling so angry and appalled anyone would suggest such things. It's just not that easy. And yet, here we are with P living our lives with a child and experiencing the joy and frustration of raising this little human. All while some of our loved ones literally cannot experience such feelings, no matter how hard they've tried.
Then there's the guilt I feel toward anyone who knows me who has gotten pregnant and had a child since we lost Korbin. Some of them have stayed away from me, most likely not wanting any of the bad-juju I must be carrying since I lost a child. And they of course don't want to take their chances and experience the loss themselves. And some have even confessed their new-found anxiety in knowing that child loss exists because of Korbin. A friend has even told us of not wanting children because of now knowing the chances of losing a child, even though it really is a small chance in this day and age. Great, we have affected others negatively when it comes to starting or continuing parenting journeys. This is so opposite the guilt I feel with my fellow loss parents. I mean, this final group, for the most part, knows the joys of having children, and have easily had children. And yet, they are letting others' experiences stop them from continuing to experience this joy. Versus those within my loss group, or those experiencing infertility, who still don't know the joys of having children with them but allow that drive to build their family to push them in to uncharted territories. I feel guilty that my experiences can affect others so deeply.
Through these different avenues of guilt, I do my best to continue to navigate the many relationships around us that are affected in ways we couldn't have ever imagined after the initial shock of losing Korbin. It's hard to just move forward in a carefree way and just so outwardly enjoy and share parenting. Not only because of our own personal loss, losing Korbin, but now too because of how our loss affects those around us. So, I just do my best to not complain about parenting struggles in front of them. Try to keep any parenting talk light-hearted and funny. But then does that only further their pain of loss? Are we driving their feelings of longing to reach new heights? Sometimes, Ryan jokes to others without kids, "do you really want kids?" Especially when P is really acting up, being his crazy three year old self. That one even makes me cringe a little bit. Of course they want this. The typical teasing becomes difficult. I guess there will always be some we need to walk on egg shells with, and I mean that with respect and love, empathy. Especially as it is probably how others around us feel about their relationship with us. We have to do our best to be conscious of the struggles and fears in others. We hope for this from others who know of Korbin's absence in our lives.
So, if you are reading this and know that you're part of any of the groups above, also know that you are in my thoughts and prayers constantly. We just want the same happiness for you. And we don't meant to bring up feelings of longing or jealousy.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
Friday, January 19, 2018
Friday, January 12, 2018
Potty Training
Watching your children grow up is such a mixed bag of emotions. I'm sure I've talked about this in numerous blog posts already, but it's exciting and fun, yet tinged with a sadness knowing that your tiny child is getting bigger and you'll never do something again, like nursing, or someday babywearing. It's bittersweet, but I'm grateful for the time that has passed and the memories it has given us.
Being a cloth diapering (CD) mama, the prospect of more and more time soaking, washing, rinsing, and hang drying and even sorting and counting my stash of cloth diapers felt like a mountain that just kept getting bigger as P has gotten older. We're at the point where Ry and I can start doing some independent things, so there's less time for some of the little things. And in prioritizing what should stay and what should go, cloth diapers, as adorable as they are, didn't make the cut. P is old enough now, too, that he understands what it means to go to the potty, which made this jump so much easier. Way easier than I expected! And the freedom from the chore of cloth diapering is amazing. I was so ready to NOT be changing diapers any more! We definitely put our time in.
Last night I pulled out all of the cloth diapers and accessories and detergents for listing in a local CD group. Thinking back, I remember feeling like we had such a small stash compared to others who go crazy for new or exclusive prints. But the pile we amassed really is quite impressive. (As soon as there's an app update for Blogger, I'll add pictures to this post!) We may even keep a couple as mementos. The newborn ones fit in to the palm of my hand! For almost four years we were almost exclusively cloth diapering. This saved so much money for us, as well as thousands of diapers going in to landfills. Over 7,000 diapers! I just did the math, and still wasn't expecting that high of a number. I definitely feel some pride that we accomplished this. It takes some extra effort and determination to be a CD family, and we did it! Although when I say "we", I really mean "I" as Ry was so not in to the CD business. We did have "disposable Sundays" in this house as that was P's day with Ry while I was at work (and this was factored in to the math above). We still saved so much!
Back to potty training. Despite how ready I was to be done with CD, I was so not ready for my baby to grow up again! And really, he wasn't even a baby in diapers any more, he'd become a toddler, and then a preschooler. It goes by so fast, and the memories tug at the heart strings for sure. P is almost four years old, and some people potty train their kiddos a lot sooner than we did. But part of it was the anxiety in wondering how the transition would change our lives until he gets it. We go places, we have packed schedules, and have a hard time just going with the flow. The thought of dealing with multiple accidents, or even just needing to stay home instead of doing a day trip that involves three hours of driving one way kept me from just jumping in and doing it. We're control freaks, and this just felt so largely out of our control. Until a friend gently told me, "He's ready, he'll know what to do, just read a little bit of Potty Training Bootcamp and you DON'T have to stick to it completely. Make it work for you." Not that we hadn't heard it before, but maybe the timing of those words was just right with my desire to now be free of CD laundry, and diapers in general. Thankfully daycare was on board as well (it's incredible knowing she was willing to take on CD while caring for P and I am so grateful for her!) and willing to take on the training with us. Though I'm sure she was more so looking forward to not changing his diapers any more either, ha!
It's amazing the stages we've been through and where we are now in watching P grow with us. I'll never forget how tiny he felt as such a little baby in my arms, and how adorable the fluffy butt from his cloth diapers looked. I miss the baby years. And though it's difficult to say goodbye to the stages we leave behind, I look forward to those ahead and helping P continue to grow up. It means he's still here with us and we get to continue parenting him, which means the world to us.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
Being a cloth diapering (CD) mama, the prospect of more and more time soaking, washing, rinsing, and hang drying and even sorting and counting my stash of cloth diapers felt like a mountain that just kept getting bigger as P has gotten older. We're at the point where Ry and I can start doing some independent things, so there's less time for some of the little things. And in prioritizing what should stay and what should go, cloth diapers, as adorable as they are, didn't make the cut. P is old enough now, too, that he understands what it means to go to the potty, which made this jump so much easier. Way easier than I expected! And the freedom from the chore of cloth diapering is amazing. I was so ready to NOT be changing diapers any more! We definitely put our time in.
Last night I pulled out all of the cloth diapers and accessories and detergents for listing in a local CD group. Thinking back, I remember feeling like we had such a small stash compared to others who go crazy for new or exclusive prints. But the pile we amassed really is quite impressive. (As soon as there's an app update for Blogger, I'll add pictures to this post!) We may even keep a couple as mementos. The newborn ones fit in to the palm of my hand! For almost four years we were almost exclusively cloth diapering. This saved so much money for us, as well as thousands of diapers going in to landfills. Over 7,000 diapers! I just did the math, and still wasn't expecting that high of a number. I definitely feel some pride that we accomplished this. It takes some extra effort and determination to be a CD family, and we did it! Although when I say "we", I really mean "I" as Ry was so not in to the CD business. We did have "disposable Sundays" in this house as that was P's day with Ry while I was at work (and this was factored in to the math above). We still saved so much!
Back to potty training. Despite how ready I was to be done with CD, I was so not ready for my baby to grow up again! And really, he wasn't even a baby in diapers any more, he'd become a toddler, and then a preschooler. It goes by so fast, and the memories tug at the heart strings for sure. P is almost four years old, and some people potty train their kiddos a lot sooner than we did. But part of it was the anxiety in wondering how the transition would change our lives until he gets it. We go places, we have packed schedules, and have a hard time just going with the flow. The thought of dealing with multiple accidents, or even just needing to stay home instead of doing a day trip that involves three hours of driving one way kept me from just jumping in and doing it. We're control freaks, and this just felt so largely out of our control. Until a friend gently told me, "He's ready, he'll know what to do, just read a little bit of Potty Training Bootcamp and you DON'T have to stick to it completely. Make it work for you." Not that we hadn't heard it before, but maybe the timing of those words was just right with my desire to now be free of CD laundry, and diapers in general. Thankfully daycare was on board as well (it's incredible knowing she was willing to take on CD while caring for P and I am so grateful for her!) and willing to take on the training with us. Though I'm sure she was more so looking forward to not changing his diapers any more either, ha!
It's amazing the stages we've been through and where we are now in watching P grow with us. I'll never forget how tiny he felt as such a little baby in my arms, and how adorable the fluffy butt from his cloth diapers looked. I miss the baby years. And though it's difficult to say goodbye to the stages we leave behind, I look forward to those ahead and helping P continue to grow up. It means he's still here with us and we get to continue parenting him, which means the world to us.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
Friday, January 5, 2018
This is why people get divorced
No, we're not getting divorced. This is just something that was said to us repeatedly while I was in recovery from my c-section with Korbin. Probably every 30 minutes. And honestly, I do think it helped keep us together. Hearing that made us cling to each other that much more instead of drift apart on separate grieving paths. We still have been grieving differently over the years, as is expected, but we've learned to go to each other in our grief.
It's amazing how much that phrase meant to us, as odd as it sounds. And yet, what if they had added: You can keep your baby with you as long as you need.
I recently listened to a podcast about death and what a family's options are when dealing with a loved one's body. What hit me like a slap in the face was the fact that you can take your deceased loved one home from the hospital. Like seriously, what. The. Fuck. My gut reaction is that we were totally screwed by the hospital. That's the anger in loss talking. But also, seriously, what an incredible way to have some serious closure when losing someone. This podcast discussed all the implications from how the family experiences the first signs of decompososition, like the smell, to really feeling like you had the final moments with the person that were so needed. Even if you didn't realize you needed that extra time. I feel like that would have added some much needed sanity to this incredibly insane moment in our lives.
I'm still a bit floored by learning this. I mean, not a single person, nurse, MA, doctor, psychologist, told us this was possible. Not even that we could have kept Korbin with us the entire time I was in the hospital. Instead we were rushed to give over his body while I was still too loopy to stand up for myself and my mental and emotional needs. This is possibly due to a lack of education, as well as a lack of cuddle cots. A cuddle cot is specifically designed to hold a deceased baby and keep the body cool enough to delay the first signs of decomposition, like the smell mentioned above, so that the family has time to process this devastating moment.
I can't even tell you the magnitude of the regret I still struggle to make peace with from our lack of time with Korbin's body. Therapy has helped me to process the regret a bit, but it is still there lurking beneath the surface of my grief.
As I continue to learn more about death and the laws surrounding what is supposed to happen to the bodies, I'm finding I am being drawn to educate others in our area. Not necessarily just the people I know, but hospitals, birthing centers, midwives, even funeral homes. In some states where this education is already present, funeral homes and hospitals are already equipped with cuddle cots to offer to families for rent. There's also the A Day With Chase foundation, which sparked my interest in learning more about cuddle cots. This foundation seeks to educate and provide cuddle cots to facilities so that they are available for use in such times of need. And yet, there are so many facilities that still don't even consider infant death that devastating to a family. There is still so much to learn, and so many to educate.
I'm making this one of my goals for 2018. To research all the ins and outs of a family's rights when it comes to losing a baby and how to best educate the facilities that care for these families. And also to develop a way to provide these facilities with the necessary tools to go along with this education, namely the cuddle cots.
Maybe it's for selfish reasons, to help me deal with my regrets and grief. But I sincerely want others to have a better chance at dealing with the devastating blow of the death of their baby, and to not have the regrets that I have to deal with daily. Proper education and support can alleviate that. And we just need to support each other.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
It's amazing how much that phrase meant to us, as odd as it sounds. And yet, what if they had added: You can keep your baby with you as long as you need.
I recently listened to a podcast about death and what a family's options are when dealing with a loved one's body. What hit me like a slap in the face was the fact that you can take your deceased loved one home from the hospital. Like seriously, what. The. Fuck. My gut reaction is that we were totally screwed by the hospital. That's the anger in loss talking. But also, seriously, what an incredible way to have some serious closure when losing someone. This podcast discussed all the implications from how the family experiences the first signs of decompososition, like the smell, to really feeling like you had the final moments with the person that were so needed. Even if you didn't realize you needed that extra time. I feel like that would have added some much needed sanity to this incredibly insane moment in our lives.
I'm still a bit floored by learning this. I mean, not a single person, nurse, MA, doctor, psychologist, told us this was possible. Not even that we could have kept Korbin with us the entire time I was in the hospital. Instead we were rushed to give over his body while I was still too loopy to stand up for myself and my mental and emotional needs. This is possibly due to a lack of education, as well as a lack of cuddle cots. A cuddle cot is specifically designed to hold a deceased baby and keep the body cool enough to delay the first signs of decomposition, like the smell mentioned above, so that the family has time to process this devastating moment.
I can't even tell you the magnitude of the regret I still struggle to make peace with from our lack of time with Korbin's body. Therapy has helped me to process the regret a bit, but it is still there lurking beneath the surface of my grief.
As I continue to learn more about death and the laws surrounding what is supposed to happen to the bodies, I'm finding I am being drawn to educate others in our area. Not necessarily just the people I know, but hospitals, birthing centers, midwives, even funeral homes. In some states where this education is already present, funeral homes and hospitals are already equipped with cuddle cots to offer to families for rent. There's also the A Day With Chase foundation, which sparked my interest in learning more about cuddle cots. This foundation seeks to educate and provide cuddle cots to facilities so that they are available for use in such times of need. And yet, there are so many facilities that still don't even consider infant death that devastating to a family. There is still so much to learn, and so many to educate.
I'm making this one of my goals for 2018. To research all the ins and outs of a family's rights when it comes to losing a baby and how to best educate the facilities that care for these families. And also to develop a way to provide these facilities with the necessary tools to go along with this education, namely the cuddle cots.
Maybe it's for selfish reasons, to help me deal with my regrets and grief. But I sincerely want others to have a better chance at dealing with the devastating blow of the death of their baby, and to not have the regrets that I have to deal with daily. Proper education and support can alleviate that. And we just need to support each other.
Because we got a lotta love to give.
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