This week has been pretty crazy for me. I am enjoying the class and change of scenery greatly. Also, it hasn't "gotten out" yet that I am a deadbabymama. It will all be out this weekend, as many of the writing assignments I turned in for the class to read deal with, um, the nastiest disaster and biggest mindfuck in my life.
I am tired and feeling exuberant at the same time. The workshop is a wonderful and exhilarating environment for me. I may apply for the MFA program by the Jan 2 deadline.
There was a discussion with a few of my classmates about PTSD. One of my classmate's daughter suffers from depression. The mother believes it was from a burst appendix that happened while she was traveling in a third world country and the physical fallout from that. This was at least 15 years ago for the daughter. Another classmate, a CSW, suggested it might be/was PTSD. It got me thinking. Are we, the DBMs, at risk for PTSD? If not now, what about when we try again? At least, since we are here in blogland, we are talking about it. I think PTSD has to do, too, with bottling it up. But there is such a recurrent theme here in blogland, that we don't have other people to talk about it with. I guess that is why I write. I do have a few folks to talk around the edges of deadbabymotherhood with IRL, but I rarely talk about it so directly. I am coming out a little more though. As the time furthers, I can talk about how much I miss her, or tell someone that my bracelet is for my baby. Triple S has his family sticker on his car.
My essay about the nursery is an interesting case in point. When I wrote it, I started to cry. When I read it to Triple S, I cried. I have read (and tweaked) it several other times. As the words become closer to memorized, they lose some of their power over me. I hope next Tuesday I can talk about this and the other essays in class. It is so painful for me. All the baby crap is here, but not my baby. I feel like the first sentence, "Everything is ready for the baby" is actually talking about the next baby. The one that is not even a twinkle in my eye yet.
Tonite, I am really thinking about postponing a conception until after the 1 year deathiversary. That is such a perversion of the word, but I am sorry, I am not going to say the "A" word. As much as I want a baby, and to doing the mom thing, I just don't feel ready to go for it again, so soon. For so long. 40 weeks. Or wait 40 weeks after our due date. If I can survive the length of another pregnancy, maybe I can survive the next pregnancy.
My heart still aches for Serenity. All I can think is that I miss her. Terribly. Every cell in my body misses her.
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3 comments:
When you look up the classic characteristics of PTSD, it's not a far stretch to compare this to it. Then add in how we react to certain things now... in the aftermath... yah.
I think you will do well this weekend. I look forward to hearing how it went - tears or no tears. This is a huge thing in your writing, to pretend otherwise would probably leave your writing flat and somewhat superficial.
Reading it over and over again, until there aren't anymore tears... I do that with the recap I sent out to friends, when I feel far away and detached from what happens, I read it and feel it all over again. At almost 8 months past now, it doesn't illicit the same reaction as it did even 2 months ago.
Last - you will know in your heart when you are ready to try again. Sometimes, you have to just jump in.
Good luck sharing it with the class. I'll be anxious to hear how it goes.
I definitely think PTSD applies to us. So many of the symptoms are the same.
When I went to go and see the psych. the very first thing she talked about was PTSD. She's actually a trauma specialist, and seemed to think it was quite natural that someone in my shoes would have PTSD. It was very reassuring.
It's hard - but take yourself out of your body if you have to, to read your words. Or just focus so much on the timing and the inflection that you don't think about the content. It's how you get through these things.
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