But.
Today was my due date in 1998. I wasn't crying at my desk or anything like that -- but I did not feel like working (even though it's year end, and thus fairly busy hereabouts). I felt tired and spectacularly non-productive. :p
(I went to Starbucks on my afternoon break for a tea latte to cheer myself up... and when I got back to my desk, I discovered it hadn't been sweetened. Steamed milk & sweetener are why I pay a gazillion dollars for these things, vs a plain old cup of tea anywhere else that I add milk & sugar to myself. Major sulk. :p )
Yes, in a different, more perfect world, I would be making plans/fighting with my teenager about what she'd like to do to celebrate her birthday (among other things, I'm sure).
Sometimes I feel a bit funny, mourning the baby who never was born -- the child who never drew a breath, let alone grew up -- the future I looked forward to that never came to pass. I know my grief is real and legitimate. But sometimes I feel like I'm still stuck back in 1998... while all around me, more and more of my peers are not just in the thick of parenting, but becoming grandparents (!!)(if they're not grandparents already). Dh's cousin (who is younger than both of us) regularly posts photos of her two adorable grandchildren on Facebook (a toddler and a newborn). A high school friend became a first-time grandmother this past week. Another is shopping for wedding dresses with her 20-something daughter.
Clearly, I missed the boat here. :p
Since the time change, it has been dark when we leave the house for work in the morning, and dark by the time we return home. And although we were only on Hurricane Sandy's fringes & did not experience any damage in our area, the weather has been mostly grey and rainy and chilly. The trees have lost just about all of their leaves. Just a few weeks ago, the world was full of glorious fall colours. Today, everything looks dull, grey, dead.
Speaking of trees and leaves, we hired a tree service to remove a dead plum tree from the corner of our back yard and prune limbs from our next-door neighbours' trees that were beginning to scrape on the side walls and roof. They came during the day while we were at work, and when we got home that night, even though it was almost completely dark, I could tell they had been there -- something about the shadowns of the trees against the sky looked different. I had to wait until the weekend daylight to see the full extent of their work -- and yikes, they really did PRUNE. The barrenness, the open space where there had been leafy cover, was shocking (even more so since the Sandy had removed what few leaves were left). I haven't heard anything from the neighbour; hopefully, she doesn't mind. (Too much.)(Although we were within our rights to prune the branches that were overhanging our property.)
Since Halloween (and certainly since Remembrance Day this past weekend), Christmas displays, decorations & music have been coming out of the woodwork. And while I love Christmas, and while I know it's only about 6 weeks away, it still feels too early. I don't feel the Christmas spirit yet. And, as I've written before, while I love Christmas, because we're so busy at the office through early December, I don't always have time to enjoy it the way I'd like to. It just sort of adds to the melancholy.
I know, I tend to say much the same things, year after year. I'm sorry if I sound like a broken record..... (But hey, it's my party/blog, and I'll cry if I want to...)(You would cry too if it happened to you...)
Previous posts:
November 2011: (Not) the most wonderful time of the year :p
November 2010: Black Friday
November 2009: November blahs
November 2008: November again
November 2007: November: The cruellest month
I've been thinking of you this week. I imagine that November is a difficult enough time in the northern hemisphere (at least we have summer to look forward to) without the added reminders of Katie, and what could/should have been. You're allowed to feel upset right now. After all, you do so well the rest of the year. We all need to give ourselves permission to remember, and feel sad. Sending hugs.
ReplyDeleteIf I was in town, we'd go out to Starbucks and sulk together... this month isn't good either for me- I had a miscarriage in November '03. By now Wolfe would have been 9... so I'm there with you...
ReplyDelete*HUGS*
I think grief has a way of anchoring you to a time. If I were there, I would have marched the Starbucks back for you and demanded sweetener.
ReplyDeleteI've cried reading some of your posts, even if it didn't happen to me. :-)
ReplyDeleteEverything has turned grey and dull - hasn't it... And the darkness...ugh. I am now awaiting that fresh coating of snow - that first beautiful morning when it is sitting on the trees.
ReplyDeleteI am not yet ready for Christmas. At the resale shop I volunteer for, there were five trees up for sale tonight and the christmas carols were playing on the radio.
(Hugs)...that day of remembering and imagining...for us it happens to be at the end of June.
I have been thinking about you this week. Abiding with you and I think what Mel said is beautiful and so true about grief.
ReplyDeleteThinking of Katie and you and wishing you well during this tough month.
Xoxo
PS: I so agree about the relentless march towards Christmas so early this year. Why the rush?!
Thinking of you and sending hugs.
ReplyDeleteI very much believe we need to grieve our miscarried babies as mothers would. Having been through four miscarriages I know that sort of pain, somewhat, as all of our experiences are different. I sulk too, you're definitely not alone.
ReplyDeleteMuch love.
ReplyDeletexoxo
I am thinking of you. I have had two wonderful things happen to me at this time of year. But I've also had two horrible things happen to me too, including a D&C two days before Christmas last year. Why is it that the bad things are what knocking me flat? Maybe after a few years the bad things will go back. I hope that the Christmas season brings you joy enough to overshadow November.
ReplyDeleteI heard on CBC today that the annual Santa parade is on this weekend - immediately I thought of you and of Katie - and wished things had been different. Although I know you are making a good life with all that is now - there's a part of me that misses Katie, and grieves for her, with you. A drop in the ocean to what your experience is - but she is real for me also.
ReplyDeleteHugs
Andie
Wasn't it Meg March who said that November was the most disagreeable month in the year? I'm sorry you have such a very real reason (not a whine!) to agree with her.
ReplyDeleteI had a negative Starbucks experience the other week. I ordered a skinny salted caramel mocha. The barista said she didn't have any low-calorie caramel; I said that was fine. On the drive home, I realized she had given me a salted nonfat mocha. Great use of $5.
(D. and I are thinking of coming up to Toronto next summer. A very good college friend has just relocated there because of a job transfer. I'll keep you posted.) : )
It's never easy to be reminded of what might have been. We only get better at managing the sadness. I am coming up on a loss anniversary as well which makes Thanksgiving a bittersweet time of year. I will be giving thanks for the opportunity to know warm-hearted women like you.
ReplyDelete