Friday, February 20, 2009

One Year

Well, a year ago, I started again. I had begun my blog in January, emailed Mel at Stirrup Queens to let her know, and promptly felt blocked, not able to write a word. So I started again today, posting their names.

I have over 200 posts now, I think, many of them saying the same thing: It hurts. I hurt. I want my boys back. I can't believe this is my life now. How am I going to get through this. There's been a lot of whining. A lot of incomprehensible exposition. A lot of cursing.

And I sit here, a year later and, to be honest, it's not really where I'd like to be. I thought perhaps I'd be pregnant by now. Or at least trying. I worried how I'd do school pregnant again; I assumed I'd be able to get back to it by now. Get some semblance of me back. And there is, here and there, a bit of me. But this roller coaster doesn't seem to end and there are more days than I'd like to admit that find me curled up and crying, sobbing, angry, lost.

C has taken care of me, more than I him, I think. He has not had the time he's needed to grieve. We need to figure out how to balance it more. I have to trust that it will come, otherwise, we are doomed. I had put on my Hope necklace for a while, but took it off yesterday, or the day before when I came down off the meds high. I have never liked roller coasters.

*****
Thanks for sticking by me, especially now, when I'm having trouble even reading blogs, let alone commenting. You are in my heart and you all have kept me going when I thought I couldn't. When I didn't think anyone could understand, you have. When no one could make anything better, you have abided with me. Held my hand. And that means the world to me.

19 comments:

Michele said...

Our lives aren't our own; they are our childrens'. If you can't write, you can't- that's okay. It takes time to heal and to walk through this. There's no walking out and, at times, I feel like we have to relearn how to walk at all.

Whatever you have to say, when you have to say it, we'll be here to listen.

Thinking of you

G$ said...

Much love hun.
xo

Mrs. Spit said...

Grief leaves us mute. You will find your voice. I believe it.

And even if you never commented again, I'd still be reading.

Newt said...

I hope you can put on the Hope necklace again soon. I don't always manage to comment, but know I'm always reading, too. Sending strength.

Betty M said...

Reading, commenting and hoping for happier days for you and C

k@lakly said...

Even when you don't feel like hoping, we'll be here hoping for you. Just as you have done and continue to do for us. Sometimes it's just knowing someone else is there beside you, even if they are silent, that makes the journey bearable. You have made my journey bearable. I hope I can do the same for you.
xxoo

Amy said...

Still reading...always will be.

The roller coaster, it sucks, it hits at the most inconvienient times and there is no way to get off. We ride, and ride and some times we find the peak before the valley, sometimes the damned valley comes and sticks around before the peak shows up again.

I'll always be here, always. I'm riding the coaster with you.

Hugs, love, and peace.

Lollipop Goldstein said...

Congratulations on reaching this milestone and sticking with the journal for the whole year. My heart is with you and I'm sending good thoughts for peace of heart soon.

Aunt Becky said...

As always, Sue, I'm thinking of you and C and your boys. Holding you all close.

luna said...

quite a year it has been, sue, I know. I remember when you started writing, and when you stopped. I remember you said only tears would come, no words. yet you stuck with it and found your voice. I'm so glad you did. I hope you find your peace too.

loribeth said...

Happy blogoversary! I'm very glad that you've continued to write.

As for where you thought you'd be -- grief has no set timetable (unfortunately -- wouldn't it be nice to know when we've reached which signposts, & when this journey is done?). Hang in there. You'll find your way, eventually, in your own time & your own unique way.

Tash said...

I'm sorry I'm so late to this post: THANK YOU for writing, for contributing, for sharing. There is no pressure, write when you feel up to it and feel it helps, but know that we're here listening when you do, and thinking of you anyway even if you're silent.

Thank you, especially, for sharing the boys with us. Thinking of them, and you this week.

Kristin said...

Congrats on sticking with it and finding an outlet for your grief. I have been with a dear friend as she mourned the loss of her son at 34 weeks and I am awed at the strength that kept her going and that keeps you going.

Prayers for peace of mind for you and your hubby.

Jess said...

I'm here from the roundup. I don't know you and haven't read you but I'll say a prayer for you. Just reading and disappearing seemed wrong.

Carrie said...

We can wait with you for as long as it takes.

Thinking of you xx

Anonymous said...

I was thinking of you today. I haven't stopped by in awhile - you are strong and I am awed by your progress. Ms Jess

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry. I'm here from reading Mel's latest post, am sort of new.

I'm sorry that your boys died, and also sorry about your 3 miscarriages. The pain never truly goes away. We just get better at hiding it from people. I'm so glad that C has been there for you, men have that wonderful and sometimes annoying quality - they hold themselves together for us.

Sending you some peaceful thoughts. I hope that you find yourself back on track a little bit at a time.

Be gentle with yourself...

Julia said...

I am unforgivably late to this (as I have been to and with most things lately). I am so sorry this year has been so hard. There are really no words to make this better. But like you say, there is nothing that can make it better. The difference in this community is that we know that, and that we know that all we can do is abide.

I am glad you've had glimpses. That conference sounds great, a breath of air. I hope there are many more of these for you as the weeks and months roll forward. One step at a time can sound so daunting when you can't see what's in the distance, but it can also be hypnotic-- just concentrate on the next step and the next again. One at a time.

Anonymous said...

Hi Sue. I am also late to this post but I have been reading and abiding with you, even when I am not online and able to comment. I think of you often and worry about you. This has been such a craptastic year but you are getting through it, one day, one breath at a time. Be kind to yourself and know that you and C have each other to rely on to get through whatever comes next.