Pity Party....and You're All Invited.
The truth is: I'm struggling right now.
I've got this wave that has been coming on for...a little bit now.
I've been missing Masyn just....so much.
God, I'm crying while I type this.
I'll get in my car & just cry by myself while I drive.
I'll rock Gage & just cry about the baby that I never got to rock.
I have these totally raw & unprocessed feelings of guilt. Today it's like I finally had all the little pieces to put together this thought, although it may be completely warped, but still it's like it had been scrambled in my head & heart & finally came together today...
I was too busy to even know Masyn was there. Too busy to notice.
I was too busy to know when Masyn died.
Where was I in that moment?
What was I doing in that moment?
How could I have possibly been so oblivious?
And this guilt about every day getting a little easier.
How can it be easier? Some days are easier. Sometimes I've thought---with everything going on with my husband's health & surgery after surgery...what if I had to go through all that with a 2 year old & a brand new baby? How awful would that be????? And then I feel guilty. I feel guilty for thinking life would be harder right now with a brand new baby.
And now...Masyn would not be brand new anymore. Masyn would have been born in January or February. Probably February.
And while I'm visiting this topic, lets talk about regrets. In the grand scheme of things, I have many. I had no idea that I was pregnant with Masyn, so I was drinking & having a good ol' time. In fact, at my birthday party in June...a few people even asked if I was pregnant, but I just truly didn't believe that I was. I just had no idea. No idea. And there I was, partying it up.
Actually, in the above paragraph, I was going to cover 2 different regrets...so, here goes: I had a d&c the day after I found out Masyn was not alive. I just had to see. I had to see what came out of me. I just needed to see. I saw a plastic container with the "products of conception" & the uterine linings. I saw no baby. The entire container was sent to a lab for pathology. In speaking with...goodness....who did I speak with? Did I speak with Dr.B's nurse? Did I speak with the lab people? I forget now.... but I distinctly remember the word "decomposed". They did pathology on Masyn. Masyn had already started to decompose. What I wish I'd asked for ahead of time: gender testing. Yes, I know, the sex organs may not have formed on my baby, but if the baby just literally came out in pieces with the uterine lining, and they were able to find it---surely.....surely they could have done SOME type of gender testing. I want to know---was Masyn a girl or a boy? I don't know. I just don't know. I feel like Masyn was a girl, but my reasons for thinking that are completely unfounded.
Moving on....another regret: why didn't I have Masyn cremated, or buried? Why didn't I speak up in that moment? I asked some pretty direct questions when I was in there getting ready for the grand evacuation---what will happen to my baby when this is over? I was told that everything would go to pathology & then be disposed of. I knew this. There is no delicate way to say that. There are no words of comfort in that. That was not Dr.B's fault. I asked a direct question, and he was so very honest with me about everything I wanted to know. But in that moment---why didn't I say "after pathology, can we have all of it cremated?"
My baby was discarded with medical waste.
I let them incinerate my child with trash.
why didn't I speak up? why wasn't it offered? It probably wasn't offered because the baby's growth was so retarded to begin with. Everything literally crumpled & fell apart as it was being taken from me because my baby had been dead for so long. My baby was decomposing inside of me, and I didn't even know it. They probably didn't offer it because in the state of Texas, I think it's anything 500 grams or larger you have to bury or cremate, and Masyn was not 500 grams. I think it was just assumed that since there was no longer a unified body, it just wasn't something to consider or address.
...speaking of regrets, and speaking of Masyn. I've got something else that still just...is bothersome. October. October is domestic violence awareness month. October is breast cancer awareness month. October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day. In honor of these things, this past October I made ribbons...tons of ribbons. I work in a hospital,you see, and we sport ribbons for all kinds of things. Pink for breast cancer, purple for domestic violence, and pink & blue for P&IL awareness. Prior to me making the ribbons & explaining their meaning, many didn't know about October 15th, it's significance, or the significance of the ribbon. I didn't mind sharing the meaning. Afterall, it was something important to me, and in society in general, it's not something that is so readily discussed like say....breast cancer awareness. So, I'm talking with one coworker at a table in our office, and she repeatedly told me "But THIS one is the most important." Referring to the pink ribbon. She said this in my face no less than 3 times, b/c each time I said, "I think they're all important." She is a breast cancer survivor. So, yes, I'm sure that to HER, the pink ribbon IS the most important. To me, it was not. And her statements....over & over & over again---insensitive. I don't think it even registered with her that what she was saying to me was hurtful & offensive. What I wanted to say: "Not to me. Your parents got to hold you when you were a baby. You had a childhood. You grew up. You got married. You had children. Compared to Masyn, you've had a pretty full life. My child got NONE of that. So to me, THIS pink & blue ribbon is the most important." But, I didn't say those things. And certainly I think that breast cancer is horrible, and I think we need to fund research...all those things. But, don't negate or belittle my experience and say that yours is worse. They are both horrible. Period. I suppose I could have shut her up quickly by saying, "You're still alive and I've got a dead baby." Or, "You fought the battle for your life, and I have a dead baby. In the end, ribbons are nothing compared to what we've been through." I suppose that would have been the nicer way to give us both credit for our experiences & send her the message to drop it...but no. I let it go. And why?
Why did I let it go if I still think about it being hurtful?
...maybe it's all because I'm having a pity party & in one of those "start crying & end up crying about everything that has ever gone wrong ever" modes.
But...I'll get through this.
And thank you to Jamie, who called me, and gave me a wonderful distraction from my old friend, Sadness. It was time for her to go anyway....