Yesterday I reached a milestone in this grieving process, one that I was anxious about all month. We went to see our friends who were in town visiting from SF. They had their first baby about 6 weeks after Silas was born and we were going to meet him. I had 7 friends who had babies in the fall. I have yet to meet any of them- I’ve been putting it off with the ones who live in the area. Everyone understands, no one has pressured me one bit. I just need to feel ready. The problem is that when I think of meeting the baby, I start to cry. Just the mere thought of it crushes me.
We have had this plan to see our friends for a few weeks now. I have been worried and anxious about it, but it was something I wanted to do. At one point in the day, before we left, Chris told me he didn’t think we should go. He didn’t want to see me sad and depressed (I guess more than usual) all weekend because of it. But I decided that it felt ok, and I wanted to do it.
Our friends knew exactly how we were feeling, they were ok with however it went down. I told them I was going to cry, and to be prepared. But I didn’t. I didn’t cry at all. It felt nice to hold him, though I couldn’t do it for very long. I was very quick to hand him over. He had 4 grandparents and an uncle all cooing over him. And yet I was fine. He wasn’t Silas, he had nothing to do with Silas, he was their baby. For some reason, there was no connection and I guess that was why I didn’t cry and I was able to do it. We spent many hours there, catching up with our good friends who we hadn’t seen in so long. We shared all our tough moments, we laughed, and we cried together. I left there feeling really good, not terribly sad. I was just happy for my friends.
We have been going away a lot on the weekends, but this weekend we were home. Chris had plans with some friends, so I was home alone. I had decided I was going to volunteer for Cityseed, this amazing organization that does the farmer’s markets here in New Haven as well as many other programs. They were doing a really fun event at one of the museums in town. After about 20 min, I realized, I can’t do this. I can’t be around all these families. It was killing me. Here I thought I was so strong for being able to hold my friend’s new baby, and yet, being around all these families I don’t know brought that anxiety back. I walked home completely deflated.
Since that was a bust, I decided it was the perfect time to do a little spring cleaning. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. I had the music blasting, the doors and windows open, and just scrubbed. It felt like I was getting rid of all these layers of sadness. I had one of those days where I didn’t really talk to anyone except the cats. I was in my own little world, trying to get rid of the shit, the layers of shit that have covered this apt.
This grief is a roller coaster ride. I’ve never felt such an enormous range of emotions in a matter of hours in my life. Every moment I feel like “hey, I can do this,” another one takes its place that just knocks me to the ground and then won’t let me up. Then luckily Chris comes home and makes me laugh and I think to myself “ok, I can handle this.”
We’ve been having a rough few weeks, there has been a lot of other stuff on top of missing Silas so much, that sometimes I feel like I’m just buried in it. Obsessive cleaning and organizing seems to help a bit. Exercising and blog reading & writing also helps. And then I just go lay on the couch with my kitties, my dark chocolate and my crappy tv shows and get through another night.
16 comments
Comments feed for this article
March 14, 2009 at 8:37 pm
Ezra's Mommy
This was a milestone and you should be proud of yourself…I get to meet my first baby this coming week…still anxious & crying just thinking about it. xoxo
March 14, 2009 at 9:17 pm
mamaliza
i’m proud of you lani-both for meeting the baby and also for walking away and taking care of yourself when the volunteering didn’t feel good for you. it is truly a roller coaster ride. i’m glad that you are finding ways to take care of yourself. i did some good cleaning and purging of shit yesterday too, then a bike ride and today too much chocolate.
sending you love
March 15, 2009 at 9:17 am
Poppy
Wow, so brave of you to meet the baby. And, I think it is wonderful that you listen to yourself, that you know when you need to leave somewhere, etc. It sounds like you have a good balance of challenge and care-taking.
March 15, 2009 at 2:46 pm
Bluebird
Thought I’d come out of lurking to offer a comment today. I just wanted to say “thank you” to you and Chris both for your continued honesty and for letting us walk this journey with you. Your words offer me an insight and clarity that I appreciate.
I particularly related to your words describing the range of emotions – it really can be overwhelming somtimes. I had no idea it was even possible to go through so many things in such a short amount of time – but here we are. How much we’ve had to learn, huh?
March 15, 2009 at 5:00 pm
Sally
The ups and downs are so brutal, aren’t they Lani? I love coming here, you always make me feel normal. Riding the rollercoaster with you all the way. And if I could come over and help you clean, I would.
March 15, 2009 at 10:35 pm
Paige
Your description of this as a rollercoaster…so accurate. I see the cars, full of babylost mamas and daddies, blindfolded, not knowing when a drop will take their breath away. You had quite the ride this weekend, meeting a little one who arrived so close to Silas. I’ve yet to do that, but can only hope I have your strength when I do.
I cleaned too, on Friday. I wanted to face Cayden’s due date with clean floors, since I knew I wouldn’t be able to scrub away the grief that bubbled up and stained me on Saturday.
Tonight I’m on the coach with my puppy, a Cadbury Egg, watching junk tv. Good medicine;)
March 16, 2009 at 2:23 am
Karen
“Grief is an expression of how greatly you loved.”
I heard this today…I thought of you guys because you both have always shown such immense, unconditional, beautiful, and forgiving love to all of your friends and family over the years. I know this has changed you both forever…but don’t ever stop loving in that special Gallagosen way. Take care of eachother. And I hope our love is still making it’s way cross country to you guys..
xoxo
March 16, 2009 at 8:30 am
Bon
a milestone, indeed.
i remember the feeling…how the babies of people i knew, whose love i felt, ended up hurting me far less than i’d expected, while random babies and families cut me to the quick.
in the end i came to the conclusion that it was b/c with strangers i felt expected or obliged to have a “standard” pleasant reaction to babies that precluded my own complex relationship to the subject and my grief for Finn and what i had hoped for us. whereas with real people, those i could talk to and whose kindness and support i felt, those who had owned their luck in relation to mine, i felt far more free and able to see their babies for what they were…lovely little creatures who felt good in my arms but who would never have been my baby no matter how things had gone.
March 16, 2009 at 8:32 am
Carly
I am so glad you have Chris to make you laugh 🙂 It is so important.
I think you are incredibly brave – what a milestone 🙂
Love to you,
Carly x
March 16, 2009 at 8:35 am
Auntie Lis
lani,
i am not at all surprised by your experience of holding a little one and the ultimate feeling you walked away with of just being happy for your friends. that is a testament to your giving and caring nature. the fact that it overrode your own personal sadness is simply YOU to the core. despite this overwhelming loss, you have had an amazing ability to see things clearly and for what they are. how you do it, i don’t know. it is just part of what makes you such an amazing person.
March 16, 2009 at 2:30 pm
ilostaworld
I’m glad you had a good experience with your friends’ baby – a milestone, indeed. I wish the downs on this particular rollercoaster weren’t quite so down, but I think you are handling them with insight and grace.
March 17, 2009 at 8:20 pm
Cs
Spring is coming, fresh green leaves and flowers are peeking out of the cold soil. I’m hoping this new season brings you and Chris hope, comfort and thoughts of all the good things to come. xoxo
March 18, 2009 at 2:51 pm
Heather
Just sending love. BIG HUGS from the West Side.
March 19, 2009 at 12:46 pm
Sheila
You are full of strength and kindness, Lani. Wishing you some relief from feeling buried and sending you love always, Sheila
March 22, 2009 at 3:12 pm
Dalene
Good for you, Lani. That’s a huge step and possibly one of those things where the anticipation is worse than the actual event. I’ve had similar experiences with babies and friends, where I dread and dread and then things turn out OK. For me, its been the friends who allow space for Baker when I meet their babies that make it bearable.
March 24, 2009 at 12:39 pm
kalakly
I remember going up to see my niece who was born days after what should have been Calebs birthday. I was sick to my stomach the whole drive up and even going in. I held her but I turned every emotion I had off so I didn’t lose it. I was so happy for my bro and sil, but just achingly sad for me and for Caleb, for never getting to have a family oooh and ahh over him.
And in a million years I never could have mustered the energy to clean like you. That is amazing. I can’t imagine how good it must have felt to do it.
The ups and downs, those still haven’t gone away. That’s depressing, isn’t it. Even now….
xxoo