Wishing you courage

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying 'I will try again tomorrow'."
- Mary Anne Radmacher

Friday, October 30, 2009

Ah hell, what kind of post is this?

October 30

It's been two years since... what exactly?

since I last had faith that things would work out well

since my heart didn't constantly ache

since I was maternal

since I felt my family was proud of me

since I felt that the future would be gorgeous

and those don't adequately describe it


What was I doing two years ago? Was it a great day? Was it a happy day?


It's been two years since I wasn't taking a single antidepressant

since I was happily sober

since I was happy to be living my life, with my own baby on the way, with my own husband - three unique souls together

since I believed that I would fall into the majority side of a very important statistic

since I didn't know the words "bilateral renal agenesis"


I had been bleeding for weeks and frequent check-ups always turned out great - the baby had a strong heartbeat so everything was presumed to be fine. None of us knew that his heartbeat was contained in increasingly cramped quarters. So many people told me that some women bleed through an entire pregnancy and they have healthy babies. Over and over women have healthy babies. Everyone believed I would be one of those women. I was cautious but at 18 weeks and 4 days, after hearing that heartbeat so often, I thought it was just about safe to seriously argue about names and sign up for birthing classes and prepare his room.

Two years ago I believed that in just one more day, after the anatomy ultrasound, I would breathe a sigh of relief. Surely I had already had my big scare on the day so much blood came rushing out of me weeks before.


Two years ago today I believed that in two days I would be showing off new ultrasound images of my little boy; I would be e-mailing the pictures to all of the would-be grandparents, aunts, and uncles.

Two years ago I believed that my family was growing. I believed that I would never be on birth control again because siblings would be very welcome before premature ovarian failure hit.


Two years ago today I never ever EVER would have guessed that that my husband would be GONE... that I wouldn't be balancing family life and work... that the baby's room would be rented out... that I simply wouldn't give a fuck about credit scores, mowed lawns, my career, basic car maintenance, home cooked meals... that it would be so easy to sleep with other men. Two years ago today I'd be shocked at the amount of alcohol I can now consume without getting sick.

Two years ago today I wasn't bitter, jealous, or consumed by anger; I didn't rage against being a member of the unlucky.

Two years ago today Halloween was my favorite holiday. I loved the parties and giving out candy to children.

Two years ago today I had more friends.


ONE year ago today I believed that I was going to make a big comeback very soon, in fact I was secretly sure that I would have a new baby or be very close to birthing by today. I had hope.


Today... I have a bottle of wine which I will drink without judgment since excess drinking doesn't happen all that often anymore. I don't have hope for beauty in my life but perhaps I don't need it anymore. I sometimes get out of bed because I'm excited for the day instead of just because that is what is expected of me.

Today I hope that by this time next year Toren and I will have a revised relationship that allows for more love and less agony in my life on Earth. Today I still secretly hope for a family or at least something good enough to replace that craving.


This post sucks, but it's important.


Nax said...

Hi Anna,
I'm so very sorry for your loss. I have you in my thoughts often. I've followed your blog for a long time and I have wanted so many times to write you something, to say something meaningful...but it's always hard.
I have also wanted to write you to express my gratitude since you commented on my blog months ago. There are no words to express how important that was for me. Reading the stories of other bereaved parents has helped me keep my sanity since Valentina died but I was convinced that there was no way I could share my story and my grief given that I write in Spanish. I was so sad to think that my words were lost where nobody would find them but me. And then I saw your comment and I no longer felt alone. Thank you.
Your post is heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. I wish things weren't that hard. I'm really sorry.
So I don't have meaningful things to say but I'm here with you on the other side of the screen.

angie said...

This post IS important. FUCK. That is what I want to say, because I hate that you have been through such a cruel two years. Missing Toren. Missing what was, what is, and what could be.

And yet, despite it all, you have written some real hope here. Wishing I could share some of your wine with you, and cuss out your ex. He really is a coward.

caitsmom said...

I agree with Angie, your post is so very important. It's an honest expression of you feeling and making sense of the crappy things that have happened. Sending lots of hugs. Peace.

Sara said...

Your post doesn't suck. It is heart-wrenching and true, but it doesn't suck. I'm so sorry that you're not where you thought you'd be two years ago. I so wish we all could be.

I still think there is happiness just around the corner for you, and you don't have to believe that it's there for it to pop out and surprise you. It won't be like this forever. I know you will get to that more peaceful place when you think of Toren. Big, BIG hugs to you today and tomorrow, Anna.

C. said...

One more voice to say Yes this is important Yes this matters Yes the recounting of where you are, given where you've been, is necessary and valuable. I keep thinking about how these messy days of longing and sadness are so seemingly impossible to write down because they seem not to come out right. But that's exactly how they should be, right? Too much order in the words is a cheat of the disorder of the soul that comes after the loss of a baby.
I hate all the phrases (medical and otherwise) I've learned through this process, too. I'd given anything not to have that vocabulary.
Keep that voice going here without apology. Know that there are readers here that far from judging your post as one that sucks actually once that gives solace.

Catherine W said...

I thought this post was important. Not sucky at all. I've tried to comment a couple of times already but my words fall short.

I'm just so sorry. So very sorry. Like Angie, I wish I could come and drink a glass of wine with you. Here's to all your hopes for the future coming true. xo

CLC said...

Wishing I could give you a hug. These two years have been hell for you and you should be proud that sometimes you get out of bed because you want to and are not expected to. You have come a long way. And I like the sparkle of hope I read at the end.

Meg said...

What a couple of years. Wow. You have been through so much and I wish you hadn't. That seems so thin, but I really wish you didn't have to go through all this. I am encouraged to read that some days you get up because you're excited for the day. But, all those other days, good for you for getting up anyway. You are doing so well. As well as anyone could hope. I wish happiness for you!!! I often feel lost for words, but the gist is that I am proud of you for how far you've come and I'm sorry you've had such a journey.

janis said...

Yes this is an important post!
What a heart-wrenching two years, all you've had to go through!

Sitting with you, honoring your feelings.

debbie said...

what sara said. and hugs from me too Anna. I'm so rooting for you.

Zil said...

Today you have a virtual sisterhood supporting you through the ups and downs. Today you still feel the pain as vividly as you did two years ago...but today you recognize that you have traveled a tough road and you are here and you have tons of folks who walk along side of you.

angelseashore said...

I totally relate to your blog. I have proof - just read mine. I wish I had magical words to make it all better but right now all I can say is: fuck, this hurts like hell. All can come crumbling down but the love you and Toren shared is the one true constant. I feel you, my friend. I'm thinking of you and wishing you a peaceful tomorrow.

Ya Chun said...

how can life end up so upside down, turned around and all in all fucked up? It just sucks. I wish I could fix it. I hope you can slowly see the good around you - good in people, good in nature, and most importantly the good in you.

It's there.

Sophie said...

Totally agree with Angie.

Been thinking of you Anna. Hope you're okay.