Alive

Just referring to my previous entry - no long entry at this point, but yes, we're as ok as we can be right now. My emotions are gone, he's being himself but a bit worse, and everything seems horrible. But it will sort itself out. My mind knows this, the rest of me will have to catch up sometime in the future.

The past few weeks have been something I never wanted to have to go through...ever. The last week, when I get upset, I've randomly thought "I want my son back." I know it can't happen, and I know who he is with.

As Easter got closer, the thought came more and more often, and frequently my mind has turned to the fact the God lost his son as well. It's something I've known, something I've thought about since the day we drove to the hospital to be induced.

I began asking a few days ago - on Easter, just as Jesus arose from the dead, could something just show me that my son is still "alive," not here, in Heaven, but that he was alive.

Last night, after my husband came home, we sat outside in the dark for a long while. Talking, I cried. I kept looking to the sky, wishing to see Ben. I cried, praying to God, please just let me see my son once.

I imagined him with little angel or butterfly wings. I knew this wouldn't happen, but maybe a dream. I haven't been dreaming since we knew he died.

I became desperate last night, moreso than I have been, just for a glimpse of what he might have been later, if he'd been born alive.

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This morning, I remember wishing this time...again that I might have some sign that Ben is alive and cared for, happy and aware of us.

On the way out of the house to church, I told my husband to get everyone in the van, that I needed to take my medicine quick before we left.

When I reached for my glass, I noticed a small bug sitting on the rim. This isn't unusual, we live in the country and we always seem to have random bugs.

But then it turned it head and looked at me, and I realized that it was a praying mantis. A tiny, brown, baby praying mantis. I'd never seen a baby before. I called my husband to look, and showed the kids, then let it go outside.

Yesterday afternoon, on our way to town, Dave and I had had a conversation about praying mantes, how they were the only bug I really couldn't bring myself to kill. Mostly because they could turn their heads independent from their body, and look at you, as if they were intelligent.

Now I realize that we have had an adult brown mantis living here for a while, and that some may say it was a coincidence (my husband may be one). But it seemed so fitting a way to know that on the same day God's son was brought back to life, so was our son, in a way.

It brought me some joy that I had thought I wouldn't feel for a while.

Thank you, God.

And Happy Easter.

I can't do this

Not with him being like this to us.


I gave birth to Ben just last Monday. Not quite two weeks ago. I was discharged the next afternoon. That evening, my husband lashed out at me. Not ABOUT me, but about other things....anything. That time it was my family, regarding our son's funeral.

He hurt me, I told him. I begged him to stop. I cried. I pleaded that I had just given birth to our stillborn son, why do this to me? Hurting me wouldn't bring Ben back.

I finally gave up and let him continue. I didn't want to fight and he wasn't going to stop. I blamed myself to him, he continued.

When he was done, I lashed back. Now that he was done breaking the rest of my heart, did he want me to hurt him like he hurt me?

He told me yes and I did. I don't believe it hurt him. He knew I didn't mean it.

That was the difference.

The next day he apologized. He was teary. He said he didn't want to be that man anymore, that Ben's life should have meant something. That he knew more than ever; losing Ben made him realize how much he DID want another child. But that he wanted to be a better man. That hurting me because he was hurting was wrong, and how could he have hurt his son's mother.

And I believed him.

But it's not new. My husband lashes out often, and has as long as we've been living together. He's cynical, sarcastic, and can be mean  - and most of the time I know it's because he's not happy with SOMETHING. In him, not everyone else.

But it still causes grief, because many times he talks to the kids the same way. A lot of time without thinking, he's so used to doing it.

With my middle child, he does it a lot on purpose. Nothing absolutely horrid, but enough to send me over the edge. Sarcastic comments mainly, that many people do with their children, but comments that my daughter can't comprehend. She doesn't understand sarcasm, and when she doesn't he picks on her, under his breath. And it starts another fight.

The point of this is that I understand he's grieving. But this isn't grief, this is "normal" for him. Again today.

I mentioned yesterday, just an "oh, look at that" type of deal, that Lowe's today was going to be giving away free trees. Later yesterday evening he mentioned finding out what time they opened to get up there and see what type they were giving away (I guessed right, pine trees). Talking about other things he wanted to look at and I reminded him that right now, we don't have any extra money.

So today, we all pile in the van and drive up there (it's about 25 minutes away). He's grumpy today. I asked him what was wrong. We look around the store. I mention that I could put the small window a/c on one of my credit cards (that he hates that I have), because we do need it and it was $100. We get in a tiff about another item that we thought we could use. I tell him I want to get a hummingbird feeder for Ben's grave. He spends the rest of the day telling me he wants/wanted one for the house too. I spent $30 on the hook, the feeder and the syrup. We couldn't get two sets.

This is just me remembering. It's probably broken and makes no sense.

When we got to the cemetery, the kids asked if they could get out too. He told them no. I mentioned to him that Ben was their brother as well...and told them they could. Which made him ill I'm sure, he never wants to let them be a part of anything and I DO override him on it. Then he gets mad about it.

He mentioned again leaving that he wanted one, and I asked him why he was acting like a child? There's no way for me to describe this, but it's not the mentioning, it's that he was saying it in a mean, sarcastic, childish way. Like I just wouldn't let him have anything.

He told me he didn't know what his problem was today. I told him to keep it away from us.

I don't know why he feels he needs to take things out on people. When I try to ask, he blames everyone else, mainly me. He's not allowed to do anything, he's not allowed to buy anything...but apparently I am. (I'd like to know...apparently these are big purchase items)



Oh. Yeah. This is all AFTER I mentioned wanting to buy Ben an Easter basket...I never got to finish because he gave me the "are you f*&^ing serious" look...told me it would blow away, asked me why I would want to spend that much money...

So I asked him, what? He said he didn't know, he doesn't pay attention. I told him again, we have no savings to BUY big things now. Nothing. To which he says I've lied before about how much we had (to save).

And he mentions that we have $8000 in the bank. WTF? Where??? That he got the balance from the bank the other day.

And THIS is why I handle the bank book. He believes that if the balance says you have it, it's there. He's overdrawn himself several hundred dollars this way.

So I hand him the bank book. Which sits right in front of the computer. At all times. He says he never looks.

Seriously? I had to go through the damn book and show him. He still doesn't believe it, I know. He has a friend who has mentioned before that I must be hiding money.

wtf? He doesn't want to go to therapy to help him. He told me he was only going for me. I DON'T NEED HIM THERE FOR ME!

I can't even begin to describe in a blog what this is like. How he is like. I read it back and it seems mild. It's in his attitude, it's in his sarcasm. If you can imagine a tv show or movie where the most cocky, annoying, makes-you-want-to-punch-him-in-the-jaw character...that's my husband.

But he doesn't do this to co workers. He's sarcastic and picks on friends, but everyone knows he's joking. He doesn't do this stupid crap in front of anyone else. So no one believes it's like it is.

HE doesn't believe it.

I made him leave. I can't handle it.

When we had gotten home, one of my daughters went to the bathroom and because she was in there and he couldn't use it he smart-assed told her that they have a bathroom upstairs; use it.

So I asked him again wth was his problem. He said he just wanted to be left alone today. I told him no one is bothering you, go where you've been for two weeks. In our game room, playing video games.

He couldn't. I finally just told him to leave then. It was becoming apparent that we all just annoy him.

He asked how long I wanted him gone, for good, or to come back later. All I could tell him was when he could act like he cared, nice instead of being mean and a jerk.

And of course. The implied message with him, half chuckling is that it will never happen.

I told him just tell people whatever he wanted. Blame me. I don't care. He said he would tell them the truth, so I told him to tell his truth. He knew what I meant.

His truth is that I don't want to help him. I don't want to cooperate, to compromise. That he does sooooo much and I don't do shit.

Well he's ADMITTED that isn't the case, but as he says, it's his lie, tell it like he wants.

I don't know if he'll stay gone. I don't know. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of my life right now. I go because of my other three living.

I can't talk to him, I don't trust him with my feelings. He mocks, he dismisses.

And it might be partly because of grief. But then what was it before?

I love him more than anything but I can't do this. It hasn't even been two weeks yet, Ben is gone and my husband still thinks "why should I change when no one else will."

I've said before, it's hard to continue being nice when you're being treated like crap.

I can't do this. I pushed my other early miscarriages away, allowed myself to believe they didn't matter because I wasn't that far along...for years. Ben's death brings it all back, I'm grieving all of those now as well. I CAN'T DO THIS ALL AT ONCE.

I can't do this. I can't even make sense. This blog entry is ridiculous. I always feel like people think what he's done and how he's acted isn't that big of a deal, I'm making it bigger.

I can't do this. I love him so much, I don't want to lose him but he HAS to change. He knows he does, but he still allows himself to continue.

I just can't do it. I hurt too badly.

I am NOT okay!

As the title states, I AM NOT OKAY! If you ask me, this is what I want to tell you. I want to tell you exactly how I feel, my guilt, my anger, my grief. I want to tell you how helpless I feel, how, looking back now, I feel even more helpless and nothing can change it now anyway.

I want to scream, I'm so tired of crying. I want to be pissed, I want to throw things. I just want to let it out.

But I don't. For several reasons.

First - I don't believe anyone REALLY wants to hear my honest answer. I understand that they are trying to be considerate, that many DO care, and ask because of it. But I don't think they will be comfortable to hear it, I don't think they're prepared to hear it.

I have friends who have gone through this, and I don't want to discuss with them because I don't want to take away from their loss.

Second - I don't want to upset my children more. They're already grieving themselves. In their way. Aurora is so concerned with how I am that it worries me. She's only 7. Joe is able to cry, and stays upset - he seems to be regressing somewhat in his behavior. I feel like he's already unstable, and I need to be helping him deal with the emotions without adding to his stress. Same with Ireland. She has a hard time recognizing the emotion still. I don't want to add to their confusion and upset.

Third - I don't want to hurt my husband more. He's been there for me since we found out, grieving in his own way. I know I can talk to him, but I don't because he feels helpless to make it better for me. He doesn't know what to say. I feel like he's uncomfortable with my being upset because of this, and because he's trying to deal with it differently.

I'M NOT OKAY!

David tells people I'm doing "okay, given the situation." I'm not. I don't want them to think I am. That implies that I am able to move on and be "normal" again. I can't.

Already people talk to him and not me. They whisper to him to ask how I am. How we are. No one addresses me directly. I have a couple of friends who have, and some family, but everyone else avoids me.

I have pictures of our son that I will not be able to share with others so that I don't offend or disturb them. He was early, he was tiny. I am afraid to share pictures from the funeral because of the same reason. THIS HURTS! I want to be able to share my child like everyone else, and I can't!

When he was born, when we held him, he was the most beautiful baby in the world to me. When I look back on his pictures, I see why others will never think so.

It took us 5 years to conceive. We finally managed to get pregnant...on our own, a miracle. And halfway through, when everything should have been alright, that dream is shattered.

The only place I have to see my son is at the cemetery. I should still be pregnant. This shouldn't be his first Easter already. Not until next year.

I don't want to hear that we can have another child. We'd already been told by so many that we "didn't need" any more children, so why would anyone think I'd believe them now? Do they understand how long it took to get pregnant?

Do they understand that losing him means I have now lost 10 children???

10. 8 of which I have never really spoken of until today. Having to face reality. That early miscarriages are still losses. That even though I lost two children BEFORE MY FIRST SON, in my teens, they were still my children and I still have the right to remember and grieve them. It's taken me this long to accept that.

That is too many for anyone.

So when people look at me and see that I have 3 of my own, that I have a stepson...that any more means we'll have 5 - they assume.

Assume that it's been easy. Joke that we don't know what causes it.  Jokingly (or not) tell us that we don't need anymore.

It's not that simple. I suffer from PCOS, and along with that, infertility.

Regardless of how many living children I have, it doesn't take away from the pain of not being able to become pregnant with my husband's child, nor the pain of not being able to carry the ones I lost.

So no, I'm not okay. Each time I lose more of myself. This time, I lost a hole in my heart. Even if we manage to have another, our family is forever broken.