We went to church this morning for the first time since we lost the baby. I couldn’t have tolerated it physically at first, and last week as a special weekend where we hold a world wide general conference, so there were no regular services at our building.
Emotionally, I’ve had a good week. I feel like I’m getting stronger and aside from feeling a little sad or misty-eyed, I hadn’t cried in a few days. Work has been a good distraction, despite feeling like I am completely buried in marking. Physically, it’s been slow and steady. I am so beyond ready to put this behind me, but I’m on day 18 and while “things” are slowing down, it’s still not finished. My doctor knows I’m still bleeding and since I’m still within the realm of “normal” and my iron levels are increasing, there’s no big concern and all I can do is wait it out.
(…but I’m so tired of waiting. I just want it to be done.)
We actually made it to church on time this morning, and I brought my trusty tailbone pillow to try and survive the hour of sitting on the pews in the chapel. It felt good to be there… I know church and/or religion isn’t for everyone, but I’ve always felt like my faith grounds me. The music alone is like a reset button for my heart and soul and I almost always leave feeling lifted.
As Sacrament meeting drew to a close, I suddenly felt this wave of anxiety. I know that most people were aware that we’d lost the baby, but the idea of talking about it felt very overwhelming today. I was already feeling a little emotional when I heard the music of the closing hymn begin to play. I recognized it immediately, it has long been one of my absolutely favourite hymns. Today, I made it through about 2 bars before I began weeping and quickly left the chapel before anyone saw me.
I ran out in the hallway searching for kleenex and a quiet place to cry. I felt so silly that a song could make me weep like that, but I’m slowly learning that grief is an absolutely bizarre non-linear journey. I ended up in the mother’s lounge of all places, but it was quiet and I could be alone with my thoughts. I have spent so many hours in that little room with my babies… and somehow being in there brought me some peace. That little room is filled with so many happy memories for me, and I was able to (sort of) pull myself together.
I made it back to the chapel to help M organize the kids, and we decided to call it a day instead of staying for the second hour. As he was getting their coats, a friend came and told me that he had read my blog post, and just wrapped his arms around me in a big hug. I was so touched by his kindness and felt the tears come spilling over again. Another came right behind with another hug, and I could just see the sadness in his eyes. It’s hard… on one hand I need those connections with people, on the other, today was a day when everything just felt a little raw and was sitting too close to the surface and I just… couldn’t.
…feeling a little overwhelmed and tired after staying up until 1:30am to mark unit tests probably didn’t help things either.
We came home, and M quietly herded the kids into the basement so that I could have some quiet to gather myself. I needed to distract myself, so I started folding the mountain of laundry waiting in baskets in our bedroom. There was something very calming about taking piles of laundry and putting them in order, and it helped somehow.
It was better than drowning my sorrows in chocolate, which I’ve done far too much lately.
So, today has been a hard day. I know it probably won’t be the last, so I’m hanging on to the fact that this week, there were more good days than bad…. and hopefully next week will be even better.