Not me. I'll just sit up and cry, thanks. I really LOVE when it just sneaks up on me. LOVE that. Don't remember the last time I was sleeping before midnight. 1AM, even.
*****
I've been doing a lot of comparing lately. My oldest and dearest friend's husband has co.ngestive heart failure and may need a transplant. He's 35. They have two kids, 3 and 1. Two other bloggers who got pg the same week I did had two very different results -- one is still healthy and pg, the other (pg with twins) has lost one twin and the other is fighting for her life in a NICU. Another friend lost her dad on Christmas Day. My pg is over, my babies gone. And I sit here crying.
Why do I compare? Do I want someone to validate my pain? Is there some sort of checklist? A contest I want to win? What is it, the "pain olympics"? (where did I hear that? I got that from some movie or tv show or something. That's what 2 ati.van at 2AM will do for you.) Everyone has pain. I did the best I could. Now I do the best I can. It's not very good though. Didn't do enough for my boys.
I think the A is finally taking effect. Starting to feel a little loopy and sleepy, even. Glad I didn't take a third one.
*Name that band.
5 comments:
(OMG, my memory is just shit. The band question will hit me at 3 a.m., just watch.)
I think it's human nature to compare. I once said that if you got a bunch of women in a support group whose husbands had all died of the same kind of cancer, that the compare game would go on there too. (Both jealousy and thanks that the sickness didn't last as young; the kids were still at home; someone was married longer/less; etc.) What strikes me as odd is that my thanks and jealousies change depending on what mood I'm in. Most days I'm v. thankful that I only had six days, and would've preferred less; others I wonder if I would've been less traumatized if I had had a few more weeks. And on.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Thanks so much for commenting on my blog.
comparisons don't help, but I think it's hard not to sometimes...
I look at women who were pregnant when I was and I can't help but compare what "should have" been (e.g., my son should be almost 2 now!). I look at women who were cycling when I did my IVF and see that 2 of them are still pregnant, one with twins, and one got pregnant but mc'd and her beta is still not back to zero 10 wks later. what's worse, not getting pg at all or the m/c from hell? they both suck. hell, if we're being honest here, I look at my friends who suffer secondary i/f and I still catch myself saying (to myself) "but at least they have 2 beautiful healthy kids" when I KNOW they are still suffering...
I agree with tash, it's natural, even if it doesn't help one bit.
~luna
I agree with the other ladies here, I think it's natural too. It's not pleasant, but it happens. I think you just want to know that other people are hurting as much as you are, and some situations would seem that the hurt is there, while others may seem less trivial to you. It's like the pain scale at the hospital. You have to rate it. Personally, I think this is a 10.
Yeah, I assign people pain ratings. If I read about a woman who has had one early miscarriage I give her a 2. Depending on the number of losses, the length of gestation or neonate life, the existence of other children, the prospect of future pregnancies...a number is assigned. I can't help it. I understand its natural and common to do but it still seems odd.
The women who leads the deadbabymeetings I attend always starts them by saying grief can't be compared or quantified. We can't put it in a cup and see who has more. Makes me feel better to think her cup is full of shit, really.
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