Fragile: Handle With Care
I am not a crier. I never have been and I think that has actually frustrated some people in my life, because to them it meant I wasn't emotional. I've always been emotional, just not a cry my eyes out type of person. I am a strong person. I feel like I've always been a good listener and could listen with care but strength. In general, I'd like to think of myself as more of a stoic, who could suck things up and move on. That all changed on May 11, 2010, the day I found out I lost Oliver.
It began with instant tears. I honestly didn't know I had it in me to cry that much. And now the tears still stay at the surface waiting for one little thing to trigger my eyes to weep. I am far more emotional. Things just hurt more. It is hard to explain. Maybe because my heart is just more vulnerable. In some ways I have more strength, but I don't think people look to me for strength, instead they see a grieving mother, who is still fragile and can't quite 'get over it.'
Maybe I just see myself that way. That I'm a emotional wreck who cries too much and is over sensitive to everything now. That one little thing or event can complete unravel me. That my heart literally hurts and the anxiety is physical. That I just can't handle certain things I was able to before. That I'm not a pillar of strength to those who need me. That I'm a little jaded now and have a hard time when people don't try to understand. That I often look in the mirror and think, 'come on, pull yourself together.'
I think the hardest thing is I want both. I want to go back to the person I was before. The non-crier, strong and stoic woman. Who could get through this easily, with unflinching strength. But then I wouldn't be a mother, who achingly missed her son. There is no way to get through this in that way. And even if I had tried to just forget about him, not name my son, not look at his picture, or just attempt to erase the whole event from my memory, he would still always be a part of me and live in my heart. I don't think there is a 'clean' way to get through something like this. Grief is messy and requires tears and being fragile.
Part of me wants people to treat me the same as they did before, but then I get offended that they weren't more sensitive to my circumstances. I want people to know that I'm fragile, but don't want to be babied and treated like an outcast. It is just a lose lose battle, because there is no happy medium. I think this is what is so hard with grief, it is so easy to isolate yourself because no one understands. There is no perfect way to treat a grieving person and it changes on a daily basis. So a loved one has to be on their toes and proceed with caution.
I feel this daily battle and it is tiring. I know the perfect balance of emotions will sort itself out eventually. It is just so maddening and confusing for someone like me that came from the complete opposite end of the emotional spectrum. In the meantime, I'll be a weeping mess, who is over sensitive and most days wants to be handled with care.
Me too. I hate crying in front of people, but the tears are so close to the surface I cry in all sorts of inappropriate places.
I know you're tired, but you are a wonderful Mama to both your sweet babies. Weep if you need to weep - it's understandable.
one of the hardest things about this is the unpredictability, and yet the predictability - of grief. i'm different from you, i've always been a crier, which has always made me angry, b/c i have no control over it. i even cry when i get angry, which makes me angry at myself - which means i cry more!
I was the same way. I never cried in front of others. I'd watch a sad movie and I'd want to cry, but I wouldn't because I was watching it with someone. I'd end up with such a sore throat from holding it back. The Jacob died and that changed. When I was waiting for the ultrasound to confirm that Jacob had died (in the prenatal clinic, between the maternity ward and L & D), I just stood in the hallway crying and crying. I didn't care who saw me. For the first 6 weeks after Jacob was born, I would cry in front of my husband, my parents, my sisters. I couldn't stop myself and it is nice in a way. Now I am a little more in control of it and I hide it again. I guess I don't want them to worry, maybe I am going back to my old ways a little. But the other day a hair elastic made me so so sad (because I used it to do up my pants when I couldn't button my regular pants between 3-4.5 months). I just never know when I will see a trigger and what it might be.
The best thing to do is just go with what you feel. It is the only real way to heal.
I feel ya there. I hate that tears come even when I tell them not to.
Praying for you as you're missing your sweet Oliver.
My heart hurts for you and your family. I lost my son in April at 23 weeks. It was our first. The hardest for me (well, really, everything is hard) is talking about our son with strangers. The simple question "Do you have kids" gives me so much anxiety. I'm learning to say "Yes, he is in heaven". It's so difficult for me to open up in front of others because that response will come with boatloads of tears and I don't want to come undone in front of others. It's exactly like you said--I want people to know the truth and to know I'm fragile but I don't want to be treated like a crazy mess. But, I also don't want to isolate myself in my grief (reading your blog and others has helped tremendously). Additionally, when I don't respond honestly, I feel tremendous guilt, like I'm denying my son Liam. I think Liam knows what is in my heart but it just sucks. It all sucks. Grief sucks!
I wish there was some balance or some way to let those around us know how to proceed. I am more like Julie in that I have always cried. I have worn my emotions on my sleeves for so long, yet only now do I feel like I understand what it means to cry. I have never seen people run from grief quite as fast as they do when it comes to baby loss. The grieving mother who can't stand to be stoic for the time or the grieving mother who finally knows what it really means to cry both need the gentle unconditional love of those around them. My heart is with you! (((Hugs)))
It really is a catch 22...we want to be "normal" and healthy and pick ourselves up and move on. But we also don't want to forget this grief or the little ones that changed us. I think eventually we will find a nice medium, when we are still missing our little boys and still thinking of them everyday but not falling apart and not being a wreck.
Wishing you peace.
xoxo
I feel like you took the words straight out of my mouth. This was me described to a tee. I uncovered a part of my soul that I never knew was there. It felt like an out of body experience the tears I shed in the months after Bella's loss. And there was never any rhyme or reason to the tears. They just came. In the car, in the shower, at work, in bed. Time is the best healer, and those tears that come with it I've learned are just part of the process.