You Like Me, You Really Like Me!

31 weeks + 5 days, 15 weeks post rupture, day 14 in the hospital (again).

Awww, I feel so loved. Thanks everyone for commenting on my last post. Keep em' coming. I'd love to hear from all 124 followers!

I'm glad that Acorn and Aidan have made such an impact on so many. Aidan only lived 54 minutes and yet so many of you have connected with him and with us in a way that I could never have imagined last year on April 21st when he was born.

Your 'cyberspace' connection with Aidan reminds me sometimes of the feelings and thought I had towards some of the families I cared for in the NICU. Our staff would look after a baby sometimes for months, so you'd get to know the family. You would get to know their hopes and dreams for their baby, know how hard and stressful things were, how hopeful they were for a good outcome. Then, sometimes, the baby would die. And the family would leave, empty handed.

Good bye. The End.

Only it's not, of course.

While I don't think I truly understood the 'grief' part of their journey until I experienced it myself (I don't think you really can), I would often wonder about those families. Because what happens 'after' is still part of their child's story. How was the family doing? What memories did they have of their child? What were their sadnesses and regrets about their time with their baby? How often did they think of their baby? What is life like 3 months, 6 months or a year or more after one loses a child? Which families recovered 'well', and which ones 'didn't'? Would they be happy to know that I remembered their child? If those families had blogs, I would have loved to read them...and it might have given me better insight as to 'what the hell happens after the baby goes to the morgue?' I feel a bit like you guys out there have got to experience Aidan's 'after' story in a way I felt I never did with those NICU families I cared for...but would have really liked to.

Your cyber relationship with Acorn has me a bit more concerned...not because I don't LOVE and appreciate the fact that so many are rooting for him or her...but I'm so afraid to disappoint you. I know I'll get lots of commenters saying 'don't worry about us'...but I do. Some of you have had major losses of your own, and while I realize you're not as 'invested' in Acorn as you would be your own child, sometimes hearing about any further bad stuff happening to babies and families is just one awful thing too many. So I really hope our little Acorn does well and lives. Mostly for his or her sake, and ours...but for yours too.

Which brings me to my next point. Some of you reading haven't had a loss of your own, but may have experienced one through a family member or friend...or not. Whatever brought you here,

kudos to you for delving into dead baby land, a world that is by definition, scary, sad and uncertain. No lollipops and sunshine over here folks. I remember last summer, when a teenage girl wrote a post on her own blog blasting people who had 'dead baby blogs' as she found them 'morbid and depressing'. People's responses to her were along the lines of 'well, pray it never happens to you!' or blasting her right back for being 'insensitive and rude'. I wrote a response to that here in case you haven't read it.

Anyway, my point is, that it takes courage and strength of character to really just 'be' with someone who is in crisis or who is talking or writing about their "deepest darkest". I have realized this time and time again over the past year. The people in my life who I relate to most, who I appreciate most, are the people who just 'listen', without having to paste a smile or an 'up side' to a terrible situation. Because sometimes there just isn't. And willing it, ignoring it, or faking it, won't make it so.

My mom and I were talking about this today. I haven't spoken to many extended family members since this all went down, but my mom is the great communicator and people in the family come to her (by phone, in person or by e-mail) to get updates about me. I get it, of course. She is out in the world and one of the main questions people want to know is "how's Emily?" My mom, having lived with me, realizes the moment to moment worry and stress this situation brings. There isn't a time when we have been able to 'let our guard down' for 15 weeks, and we are still slogging away. While we are hopeful that Acorn will be okay, and I will have a quick recovery after the C-section, there are no guarantees. Life is tricky that way.

My mother today was upset that some family and friends have insisted on ending conversations that surround me and Acorn as the topic with "well, you just have to think positively!".

Um...right...

It's like they didn't hear a word she said.

That's not being 'with' someone. It's also not a very 'supportive' comment. That is slapping your own shiny label on another's grief and fear and loss and stress and saying "I don't really want to deal with you right now". Which in some respects I get. Just as I could say today "I'm going to think positively about those nuclear reactors in Japan...all that stuff turned out just fine right? No news is good news, right? Those Japanese people just have to think positively...it will all work out in the end!" But that is my 'other side of the world' prerogative. I don't have to deal with that fallout (literally) on a daily basis. My house isn't 5 km down the road from the power plant...so why wouldn't I put it in my mental shredder?

My mom still gets angry at these people for not 'hearing' her, which I understand because some of them are close to her. I, on the other hand, basically have learned to put them in my mental 'outbox'. They don't get it. They can't get it. They aren't here on a daily basis. It's not their kid, and it's not their problem. We have specifically chosen NOT to make it their problem, by keeping relatively quiet and to ourselves these past few months. So, while I'm sure they care and are hoping for a good outcome...they can afford to 'think positively' because they won't be affected on a daily basis by the outcome, whichever way it goes.

So instead of looking for support in places I'm not sure I will get it, I come here. And I write. And you read...but only if you want to. And you take away from it what you will, and you leave supportive comments if you feel like it (which I do appreciate). But I don't sugar coat here and you don't expect me to. Plus I've always found it easier to express myself through writing...and I don't have to end on a high note like I might feel I have to in a conversation.

It's hard to understand babylostness and baby "I'm afraid I'm going to lose-ness" if you've never experienced it yourself. They are not nice experiences and ones people normally shy away from. Both are hard, scary, sad, and depressing. And hard for others to understand because they are (fairly) rare, and are centered around tiny people who aren't 'real' to a lot of outsiders.

So I guess what I want to say is thank you, no matter why you are reading. Those of you who 'get it' because you've experienced it are great and I'm really glad to have your support. Those of you who haven't are special too because you try to 'get it', and I'm glad all of you are taking away something from my life story. Because when you think about Aidan, or root for Acorn you are helping to make my babies 'real'. You are helping to make them matter.

And that means the world to me.