Don't Tell Me

I found the following poem online. My opinion is it should be given to every person. The poem explains life perfectly (just mentally chanced son to daughter, his to her, and so on). The only line missing is "please don’t talk to me about your baby".

Don't Tell Me
author Judi Walker
In Memory of Shane
Copyright 1998

Please don't tell me you know how I feel,
Unless you have lost your child too,
Please don't tell me my broken heart will heal,
Because that is just not true,
Please don't tell me my son is in a better place,
Though it is true, I want him here with me,
Don't tell me someday I'll hear his voice, see his face,
Beyond today I cannot see,
Don't tell me it is time to move on,
Because I cannot,
Don't tell me to face the fact he is gone,
Because denial is something I can't stop,
Don't tell me to be thankful for the time I had,
Because I wanted more,
Don't tell me when I am my old self you will be glad,
I'll never be as I was before,
What you can tell me is you will be here for me,
That you will listen when I talk of my child,
You can share with me my precious memories,
You can even cry with me for a while,
And please don't hesitate to say his name,
Because it is something I long to hear everyday,
Friend please realize that I can never be the same,
But if you stand by me, you may like the new person I become someday.

Mad, Sad, and Numb

My preschool clients learn to identify four basic feelings: glad, mad, sad, and scared. Recently I noticed I've regressed lower than a preschool level, as I only have three feelings: mad, sad, and numb (although numb is more a state than feeling). I prefer the numbness, I can get through the day. My second preference is anger (mad). The anger is energizing, I can accomplish tasks. The despair (sad) is debilitating, all I want is to lye in bed.

This week all I've felt was the anger. Anger at how thoughtless people are. Anger at how quickly people forget. At work the talk was about our co-worker’s new baby. I don’t understand why people think it’s ok to discuss how cute he is with me. Dustin's aunt sent an email inviting us to mother's day brunch. My response would have been HELL NO. Dustin, being more diplomatic, responded we’re having a none mother's day and skipping town. What's more, I got an email from a friend asking how we are doing. I answered honestly, we are getting through each day and some days it's a struggle. Her response was basically chin up. What? It's not like I stubbed my toe or got a flat tire. My daughter died. I'm trying to understand where people are coming from but I’m having a hard time.

March for Babies

Yesterday was March of Dimes' March for Babies. March of Dimes' raises money to fund research to end premature births and births defects. Although the research couldn't save Payton, Dustin and I felt it was a good cause to support. Actually it was Dustin's idea, I just went along with it. It was a way we could help prevent other parents from losing their baby. We were disappointed our shirts didn't turn out better. Next time we will have professionally made shirts. Even so, with our iron-on 'Payton's Presence' t-shirts and jackets, a-walking we went. It was difficult to see all the children and even an empty stroller (ah, heartbreaking) but walking with our group friends made the event easier, even enjoyable. And wow I walked 5 miles.

Retail Therapy

I woke feeling lousy, emotionally drained. Why are babies born or elderly people dying on anniversary dates? Three months in a row! Month one: Dustin's sister's baby was born on the anniversary of Payton's burial. Month two: Dustin's grandfather died on the anniversary of learning Payton was no longer alive. Month three: A friend's baby was born on the anniversary of Payton's delivery. I'm starting to notice a pattern. What are we in for at month four and the anniversary of Payton's due date? It's hard enough getting through the anniversary dates without the births or death of others. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts I washed my hair with liquid bath soap instead of shampoo :).

Later Tater and I ran errands to buy t-shirts and iron-ons to make shirts for the March of Dimes' March for Babies. Dustin and my team- 'Payton's Presence'. Tatum and I went to Kohl's, Micheal's, and Target. I bought the needed items and a few items of clothing. Clothes that might actually fit (I haven't tried them on yet), wahoo. The best part: I didn't see a single baby! Tatum was so patient. I left feeling good, reenergized. Nothing beats retail therapy!

Payton's Candles

Payton was born silent three months ago. If the day wasn't hard enough, I received a text from a friend. She was in labor. Selfishly I thought 'please don't have the baby today' and 'please have a boy'. Eventually she had a c-section but at least it’s a boy! Sadly, I also received an email from a woman in our group. Her friend had to deliver twins without heartbeats. How ironic, my friend gave birth to a health baby while on the other side of town a woman lost both her babies. I know both feelings. I know the feeling of complete joy and love. I also know the feeling of complete sorrow and heartbreak. I’m happy for my friend but my heartaches for the other woman.

Before Easter I felt a strong desire to light a candle for Payton. Although, I never understood the lighting of candles for lost loved ones, I Needed a candle for Payton. One afternoon I went searching for the perfect candle. After looking in a couple of stores I landed in Hallmark. Hallmark had candles entitled ‘family’, ‘love’, ect; each with a sentimental saying and each in a box. One type read, ‘Daughters are a wonderful blessing from above…filling our hearts with happiness, thoughtfulness, and love’. Was it too cheesy? Was it appropriate for a baby? Was it what I had envisioned? I was lost in thought when I noticed behind ‘Daughters’ was a candle that read, ‘Sisters fill our lives with happiness and love…they are always cherished and held dear to our hearts’. It was the only ‘Sisters’ candle and didn’t have a box. Was the candle a sign from Payton? A reminder of the other significant relationship in our household? Payton is not only our daughter but also Tatum’s sister. I realized as Tatum matures she would need to be included in the grieving and honoring of Payton. I stood in the Hallmark store sobbing for who knows how long. I asked the cashier if there was a box for the candle. She said it was odd the candle was on the shelf without a box but would check the back. Was it odd? In the storeroom she found the box. I bought both candles. Tonight, needing to feel connected I lit Payton’s candles.

Blogging?

A woman from our support group blogs her thoughts and feelings rather than journaling in a notebook. She has found it helpful. I have mixed feelings about blogging. In some ways, I guess it terrifies me to share my and my family’s struggles with the world. On the other hand, I’ve never found journaling helpful. I understand how writing down ones thoughts/ feelings might help others but the thoughts/ feelings go nowhere. With blogging the thoughts/feelings, good or bad, are out there for the world to read. In any case, I’ve decided to try it. Today seems like the perfect day to start. Three months ago today my beautiful daughter, Payton was born silent. Since our support group began in March, I’ve been journaling on the computer. Therefore, before I move forward I will catch up. Simple cut and paste- think I can handle that. As for the rest of blogging, so far I don’t love it. I’m technologically challenged. I cannot seem to figure out how to arrange or change the settings. Humph, this might be more frustrating than helpful.

“My Blinders Are Broken”

Tatum is more than two years old. Normally Dustin and I are on the ball. But normal has dramatically changed. This year we moved into our new home on her birthday. The following weekend we celebrated her birthday with a small party. The next 11 days we worked on getting the house in order, anticipating soon we would have a new baby. However, it didn’t happen. On January 20 we learned Payton wouldn’t be coming home. Since which time there was Payton’s funeral, Dustin’s grandparents were in and out of the hospital, eventually both died, emotional ‘anniversaries’, holidays (which we attempted to skip), yard work, and days where leaving the house wasn’t an option. So here we are without pictures. Today was the day! I felt positive and strong. Today I could get through it. I, (some might say bribed- I call it positive reinforcement) told Tatum “if you get dressed, let mommy do your hair, and smile for the pictures mommy will buy you fries”. Fries are one of her favorite foods—thanks Grandma Brenda and Grandma Sue.

Hair done; I gathered her dress, socks, and shoes. I was going to change her in the studio. Minutes into the drive, I turned around and saw muddy footprints on her dress. That’s one way to get a new dress :). Dustin decided to stop at Babies-R-Us. As soon as he said the words, Babies-R-Us, tears welled up and a knot grew in my stomach. I should’ve known the emotional tone of the day had changed. Dustin offered to go into the store by himself. He most certainly would. Not only is it hard for me to see babies (even just the infant car seats), pregnant women, and baby clothes but also I haven’t been in that store since buying the christening dress Payton was buried in. Yes, he would go alone! Dustin said it wasn’t as hard for him because he had blinders on and so didn’t see the babies, pregnant women, or baby clothes. I didn’t dare mention the other reason it was impossible for me to walk into the store. As Tatum and I drove around the parking lot I watched pregnant women and babies walk-in and out of the store. They were everywhere- after all it is Babies-R-Us. Dustin returned holding back tears. He said, “my blinders are broken”. He had walked past the christening dresses and it hit him. All of a sudden everywhere he looked he SAW babies and pregnant women. He said he wanted to punch the pregnant woman in front of him in line. Welcome to my world.

We continued to the studio and of course the parking lot was full of babies. We went into the studio, thankful no babies. The manager said her employee was running 20 minutes late. Ok, we had to exchange rods and buy cat food. In line babies and pregnant women surrounded us. Dustin now unable to not see them said, “tonight it's going to be nice to be around normal people”. I just smiled and nodded. Ah, yes normal people. Tonight we were meeting up with two couples from our group. 40 minutes later, the employee was ready (and about to pop out a baby). However, Tatum was hitting the hungry, tired, grumpy point. The manager came over bouncing and singing. Within minutes she turned around Tatum’s grumpy mood. The pictures turned out great. We were selecting images when in walked a woman and her infant. I lost it. It hit me we will never have pictures taken of Payton. We will never have pictures of Payton and Tatum. We will never have pictures of our family, All of Us. After the pictures we went home emotionally and physically exhausted.

Later we went to a comedy show and dinner with the couples. No babies at the comedy show- wahoo. But of coarse at dinner sitting behind us was a family with an infant. After dinner one couple and us went out for a drink. The wife reminded me it has only been three months since we lost Payton. At times it feels like yesterday and other times it seems like decades. Three months when I reflect, I guess I’m doing ok. I have tough days, many tough days but I have come a long way. I get up, brush my teeth, shower, dress, and make it through each day. I even have a few moments in which I smile or laugh; Tatum is usually the cause. Over all the night was normal. I felt normal. These are my normal people.

Shoulds

Payton should be two-months-old today. I should be nursing her. There should be piles of dirty diapers and clothes. Dustin and I should be exhausted. We should be happy. We should be celebrating and for Tatum we should have cake. Cake, fries, and shrimp are Tatum’s current favorite foods. The three of us should eat cake and then Dustin and I should read a new book to both girls. That is how we should celebrate the month birthdays of our baby- with a new book. Like I said, should. There are so many shoulds, but no dos. All week I dreaded this day, mentally preparing for the heart-breaking reminder of losing Payton. Even now without any effort, I can see the ultrasound image of her tiny body and the blackness where her beating heart should have been; yet another should.

Dustin understanding this day, woke up with Tatum and took her downstairs for breakfast. From our bedroom I could hear her whining. Once breakfast was over Dustin brought her upstairs so he could shower and dress for work. Tatum was still whining. I asked her to come snuggle with me, which she did. I said “you seem to be having a difficult day like mommy”. She answered “yes”. I asked why. Her response astounded me. She responded “Baby Pay" followed by two words I didn’t understand. What? Is she having a difficult day because of Baby Pay? I didn’t understand. She knows Baby Pay but not once have we mentioned the meaning of today (or any day). We are always very careful about what we say in her presence. I waited breathlessly for Dustin to walk out of the bathroom. Once he stepped out I asked if he said anything to her about today. He had not. I’m amazed how perceptive and compassionate she is.

Bereavement Care Packages

Two women from the group and I volunteered to put together bereavement care packages. In the package was a blanket, plaster to form a footprint, plus additional items. Local hospitals give a package to every parent who loses a baby. The three of us were recipients of a package. My brain was glad to give back. My heart was sad as each package represents such loss; loss of a life and loss of so many dreams.

I offered to drop off care packages (10 boy, 10 girl, and 10 gender neutral) to a hospital near my work- not the hospital I delivered in! My one-handedness made it necessary for me to take two trips to the labor and delivery ward. In those two trips, I saw FOUR blissfully happy women holding infants being wheeled downstairs by a staff person while the bewildered dads trailed behind carrying armfuls of gifts. Oh how I envy those women!