The Day is almost here, the Day I have been dreading the most since we lost him. Saturday the 9th of March, my son’s due date, is almost here.
These last six months have been the hardest of my life.
The first month, if it wasn’t for Ava and Johan, I don’t think I would have gotten out of bed. I cursed my house for not having a proper closet for me to lock myself into. I cursed God for not taking away the pain. I cursed the shower for not making me feel clean. My iPad for not distracting me enough. I cursed myself for everything and anything I could have done. My past for my Karma. My thoughts for my pain. My body for it failing me and my son.
The second month, I went back to work for a couple of weeks and then we jetted off to America. Being back at work was a nice distraction from the reality of our situation. However, my drive to and from the office was horrible. It was and is, my only real alone time. The hour to work, I spent fighting back the tears as I didn’t want to ruin my makeup. The hour driving home, I let it rip. I sometimes cried from the parking lot until the driveway, where I would quickly clean my face, throw on a smile and then squeeze my family. I still have days where I am afraid to go to the bathroom at work. Afraid to be alone or look at myself in the mirror. Afraid of the tears that might come and won’t stop.
Our trip to America was good therapy for me. I really needed to see my family and oldest friends. I wish I could say we relaxed a bit, but we didn’t. We were non-stop from the moment our plane landed in Charlotte, until we took off in January.
The third month, was really rough. The new year brought with it loads of anxiety. 2013 was supposed to be the year we grew our little family to four. I was supposed to be preparing for having a baby. I couldn’t help but think about trying for another baby. If we do, when should we start trying? Should we try to have a baby before the end of the year? Am I ready? Will we even be blessed with another baby? What if we loose another baby, can I cope? Should I pack away his clothes? Should I pack away the maternity clothes? Should I stop wearing maternity clothes?
During this time, the 15th of January came and I hadn’t noticed the date until Johan said something. I had just come back from seeing the next door neighbour’s son’s nursery, a terrible idea of mine, as we were due a week apart and it only made me sad and jealous inside. It was then that Johan reminded me it was three months since we lost our baby. I hadn’t even realised the date. I had forgotten to mourn the month anniversary. Sounds silly, I know. But it rocked me. I felt as if I had let the pain overcome my life, to the point I even forgot where the pain came from. I had forgotten about my son and had hit rock bottom.
It was at the bottom that I realised I needed help. I had done the therapist thing and decided I needed medication. I honestly didn’t think I could do it on my own anymore. I spoke to my doctor and she prescribed me an anti-depressant. I have never been one on taking medication but hoped and prayed it would help me.
For the next week, the side effects totally messed me up. I felted wasted all day and through the night. The anxiety I was having about being on the medication and the side effects I was feeling was worse than the depression. To the point I finally gave up and couldn’t take it anymore. If anti-depressants work for you, that is great! I am jealous. This drug didn’t work for me and I wasn’t up to trying something else.
So, I decided to ask God to help me fight my depression and focus my energy on running. In December, I began running in the mornings before work. Johan and I started competing in road races in January and ran our first 21km two weeks ago. The high I got after completing a race is something I cannot explain. It’s been months since I have felt so good about myself.
These last two months have been a bit easier for me. I don’t know if it’s praying more or the running, or that we have been so busy I haven’t had the time to really reflect on life, or the tons of cds I now keep in my car to distract me during traffic. Whatever it is, I have felt a bit better.
There are lots of ups and fewer downs, but this week, right now, I feel like crawling into a hole and never coming out. It takes every inch of my being to get out of bed and get through the day without crying. It takes every single inch to fake a smile and hold a conversation. To be ok. What I need is to get past this Day. The Day that is almost here….
*For some of you, please forgive me and know that I am truly sorry. I am so sorry I don’t want to see or hold your newborn baby. Sorry that I can’t even buy your baby a gift. I can barely say congratulations without choking. I am so, so sorry I couldn’t make it to your baby shower. I am so jealous of your new baby, of your belly bump that I could just die. It’s not that I want your baby, I want mine. I want to be a mother to the son I lost.
At the exact same time, I am extremely happy for you. I know the joy you are experiencing and the love you have found that you never knew existed before. I am so very happy for you. Really, I am. I am just so jealous of you, too.