The First Week Without

I take a Percocet for the pain. It gives me also a brief reprieve from the worst of it , which is in my chest and my stomach and under the bones where my heart is, a physical mass of empty space and pain and infinitely impossible yearning, otherwise known as loss. It is after I take a Percocet that I am writing this. Mr. Curry has taken L and D to my nephew's birthday party. For the children life needs to be part sadness and mostly living and this is the way they will learn about grieving. For me I am still in a small hole and Mr. Curry is the only person that is there with me. I move around the house in the grace of his love and his protection and this is a gift I have and treasure more than is possible to express. His eyes reflect the thoughts and feelings I have about our baby that is gone and we do not have to talk. Sometimes when he is pressing his mouth onto mine I feel such a mix of love and grief that I cannot sit still and have to stand up and move about.

Mr. Curry came home from the hospital briefly to take down the pictures of our baby on the fridge. He moved all the baby things into the spare room which is now filled with the stroller, the bouncy seats, the expensive and safe carseat, the baby book which is the exact one as the babies brothers and sister have, already part way filled with messages from all of us when we found out we were expecting, and the books from Kristi, my sister in law, stacked and full of information about birthing and labor that had nothing to do with what happened to me and Mr. Curry and this baby. Mr. Curry came back to the hospital and slept in a cot crammed next to my hospital bed. Every time I had to pee he had to navigate the many wires connected to the saline, morphine and blood attached by slim tubes into my arms. My arms are covered in large bruises. The sweet and miserable male nurse could not get the tubes in and Mr. Curry held my head in his arms as the nurse tried again and again until I thought he might cry himself.

All night I slept and woke and cried as I made my way to the bathroom, Mr. Curry holding and holding my wheeled pharmacy and making comforting noises and telling me how much he loves me and telling me he knows.

My house has flowers in bunches. My work sent the most beautiful roses with a card that said they love me very much and can't wait to have me back at work and is signed 'your family' and that card truly gave me a moment of peace and I feel so lucky to have such people in my life.
My mom came over and made dinner and cleaned this week. My sister in law Kristi ordered and paid for a delicious dinner from Pat and Oscars. I am very blessed to have love in my life. Dakota has been so loving and thoughtful that I find myself crying thinking of it. He is almost 15 but has the emotional wisdom and compassion of a truly special soul. When I came home he held me and told me he loved me many times. He cleaned and brought me water and told me that he was so proud of me and that I am not alone. These are the things that matter and the only things that truly can help. Dakota did laundry and walked the dogs and held me last night as I cried unexpectedly in the living room until Mr. Curry came over and took his place. I checked in with him this morning to make sure he wasn't overwhelmed with that and he told me sternly never to apologize for grieving and that is what family is for. I wish so badly our baby could have known and been loved in this family. Lola has had the hardest time outwardly. She has had one of those sudden maturings children have when they experience loss. She is understanding that death is real and not just something for old people or movies. We have kept a flow of grieving and snuggling with gentle activities so that the children don't get mired.

I am so sad for Mr. Curry. I know in some ways the experience of this for me was traumatic because it happened to and in my body, but I think for Mr. Curry he is having to try to grasp this horrible thing that happened without any physical reality to link it to. I never realized or had thought about what happens when you lose a baby that is this far along, as far as the process and how you have a labor and a birthing and your body acts as if you had a baby but there is no baby. The pain of that is something Mr. Curry and I have to try to accept but it is hard and I find myself getting furious at my body. My breasts are full and have milk. My stomach is soft and full. Last night I was crying with Mr. Curry when L was asleep and I just hit myself in the stomach in anger. I was furious with myself for not taking my prenatals soon enough and not always sleeping on my left side and for having thyroid problems and for being so sick I couldn't eat my vegetables. I was furious for my body letting this happen to our baby. I don't expect to have peace with this. Some things can only be tolerated.

I so appreciate all the comments and emails of support. Coming here and reading them gives me comfort and especially those of you who have gone through this can understand.