Sometimes I feel like the Universe is just steering me in the direction of a bad day. Today was definitely one of those days. It started out fine - Rhoners slept great last night and slept in this morning, I am finally over my plateau and am losing weight again (8 lbs to go before I am back to my pre-Naya weight. 13 lbs to goal!), got my hair cut yesterday and it still looks great for work today. All good things. And then I left the house.
Driving to work, I was listening to the radio and Eric Clapton's Tears in Heaven came on. It's probably the first time I listened to it since I lost Naya. And this time, I LISTENED to it. Damn, you can feel his grief in his lyrics. For those not in the know, the song is about Clapton's son, who passed away when he was four years old by falling out of 53 story window. I always knew the story and have always regarded the song as terribly sad but this time, I felt the sadness and I sobbed through its entirety, all the while thinking of Naya and wondering all the things Clapton is asking in that song. I was able to collect myself before getting to work but it definitely shifted my mood.
Later on, I took a break and met up with a friend for a quick brunch. While we were sitting in the restaurant, a little girl came up to our table. I looked down and it was a little girl from Rhone's daycare. She must have recognized Rhone because he was with me (long story but I am lucky enough to be able to take him to work and did so today). The little girl's mom came up to me and I introduced myself and told her that our kids were in daycare together. As she walked away, I looked at her and her husband and realized that they were in our birthing class for Naya. That little girl was born a few days before Naya was born. They should all be in daycare together. I was so shocked, I started crying in the middle of the restaurant - something that I haven't done in months because I now have the ability to control my emotions a bit better. This just rattled me to my core for some reason. I feel broken. It's those moments that make me want to scream and cry. Why did this have to happen? Why is this my life? Why does everyone else get to have their children and my little girl is dead? What the fuck did I do to deserve this. This is something that is never, ever going to go away. This is my reality. I have a dead child and she is always going to be dead. I can't do anything to change it. Is this pain ever going to end? Am I ever going to be a real person again? Am I always going to be shitty and sad and have triggers that pop up and make me cry no matter where I am? Am I ever going to be able to deal with the fact that this is my reality and just accept it? The real shitty thing is that now, I feel guilty for wanting this pain to end. Because no matter how much this hurts at least I am reminded of Naya and she is still a part of my life. And I want her to be a part of my life. I don't ever want to let her go. I want her. I want her back. I hate this.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Fear and Loathing in my Bedroom
I am exhausted. I know Rhone isn't my first child but I honestly forgot how hard it is to have an infant. I wake up every morning and I swear I am more exhausted then I was when I went to bed. Somedays, I can not even tell you how I am managing to function - I float through the day in a caffeine induced fog that somehow gets me from point A to point B. What I would do for a full nights sleep is downright questionable and probably embarrassing. I can also barely put a coherent thought or sentence together, so forgive me if this post is a bit on the rambling side.
I know every mother of an infant feels this way. My problem is that I feel so damn guilty for feeling this way. Because of what I went through with Naya, I feel like I should be enjoying every moment of Rhone's infancy, no matter how exhausted I am. I remember after Naya died, I would hear women complain about their babies and how they weren't sleeping and I would think about how I would give anything to be exhausted as long as my baby was alive. Don't get me wrong, I am still incredibly grateful for every moment I have with Rhone. Most nights, I enjoy the 3am feeding because it gives me an extra opportunity to cuddle with my boy but almost 6 months of not sleeping is really starting to wear on me. I'm tired and I'm cranky.
The ironic thing is that Rhone is a pretty good sleeper and always has been. We even had a whole month where he slept through the night from Thanksgiving to Christmas. For the most part, we are now on an only once a night wake-up around 3am schedule, which as I said before, is not terrible. The part that sucks is that I have the absolute hardest time falling back asleep after I feed him. Most nights, it takes me at least an hour - sometimes more - to fall back asleep. There are some nights in which I can't fall back asleep at all.
I have always had trouble falling asleep but Naya's death has definitely made it worse. My head just won't shut up. I lie there after putting Rhone down and all that runs through my head is every possible bad thing that could conceivably (and not so conceivably) happen. And my thoughts are not only based solely around Rhone and Ty but also extend to Dan, my parents, my grandparents, my family, my friends - hell, even my dogs. It feels like I'm lying there watching a new Final Destination type movie starring the people in my life night after night.
To make things tougher, Rhone got his first cold three weeks ago. And, of course, in the style that my life is accustomed too, it was a doozie. He had RSV that turned into bronchiolitis. We took him to the doctor four times and the ER twice in the course of a week. There was one day where he was wheezing so badly that I honestly thought he had pneumonia and was going to die. (That was one of the ER trips - they were also concerned and gave him a chest xray just to check.) It was honestly one of my worse fears come to life - I felt like I was watching him go through exactly what Naya went through (He even puked all over me in the ER just like Naya did to Dan when we took her to the ER) and it was terrifying. I spent a great majority of that two weeks sobbing and overcome with fear. I stayed up at night staring at him just to make sure that he was still breathing. He is better now but I am not. I am so scared of something happening to him or to anyone in my life, that I am losing sleep which is affecting everything else in my life. I hate to wish away his infancy but I will be glad when he becomes an older and stronger toddler.
I know every mother of an infant feels this way. My problem is that I feel so damn guilty for feeling this way. Because of what I went through with Naya, I feel like I should be enjoying every moment of Rhone's infancy, no matter how exhausted I am. I remember after Naya died, I would hear women complain about their babies and how they weren't sleeping and I would think about how I would give anything to be exhausted as long as my baby was alive. Don't get me wrong, I am still incredibly grateful for every moment I have with Rhone. Most nights, I enjoy the 3am feeding because it gives me an extra opportunity to cuddle with my boy but almost 6 months of not sleeping is really starting to wear on me. I'm tired and I'm cranky.
The ironic thing is that Rhone is a pretty good sleeper and always has been. We even had a whole month where he slept through the night from Thanksgiving to Christmas. For the most part, we are now on an only once a night wake-up around 3am schedule, which as I said before, is not terrible. The part that sucks is that I have the absolute hardest time falling back asleep after I feed him. Most nights, it takes me at least an hour - sometimes more - to fall back asleep. There are some nights in which I can't fall back asleep at all.
I have always had trouble falling asleep but Naya's death has definitely made it worse. My head just won't shut up. I lie there after putting Rhone down and all that runs through my head is every possible bad thing that could conceivably (and not so conceivably) happen. And my thoughts are not only based solely around Rhone and Ty but also extend to Dan, my parents, my grandparents, my family, my friends - hell, even my dogs. It feels like I'm lying there watching a new Final Destination type movie starring the people in my life night after night.
To make things tougher, Rhone got his first cold three weeks ago. And, of course, in the style that my life is accustomed too, it was a doozie. He had RSV that turned into bronchiolitis. We took him to the doctor four times and the ER twice in the course of a week. There was one day where he was wheezing so badly that I honestly thought he had pneumonia and was going to die. (That was one of the ER trips - they were also concerned and gave him a chest xray just to check.) It was honestly one of my worse fears come to life - I felt like I was watching him go through exactly what Naya went through (He even puked all over me in the ER just like Naya did to Dan when we took her to the ER) and it was terrifying. I spent a great majority of that two weeks sobbing and overcome with fear. I stayed up at night staring at him just to make sure that he was still breathing. He is better now but I am not. I am so scared of something happening to him or to anyone in my life, that I am losing sleep which is affecting everything else in my life. I hate to wish away his infancy but I will be glad when he becomes an older and stronger toddler.
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