Grief

Grief is a very personal thing. It comes in many different forms and means different things for every person.

I have probably had more grief in my life than most people should. It's hard not to get upset when someone says "I don't know what I would do without my Mother" and I so want to say "I do". I get upset a lot. Usually it is a small trigger.

With my parents, I might see something that I know they would like, and then I remember I can't get it for them. I might think "I should tell Mum that.." then realise there is no number for me to call.

People don't like grief. If I get upset about something or someone, they don't know what to say to me. But there isn't anything they can say. It is just something I have to go through myself and find coping mechanisms for.

When I lost my parents, there were so many people who avoided me. Few people got it that they didn't have to say anything, they just had to be there.

I still mourn them deeply. I don't know that this will ever change. It has been 14.5 years since my Dad died, and I still see his face when I close my eyes. I still want more than anything one of his hugs and to hear him call me "Bubsey" once more. How different my life would be if I could still run to him for advice or hear his corny jokes.

It has been 8 years since my Mum died. I didn't get to share my wedding with her or Dad. I never got to do the things Mum's and Daughters did. I never got to ask her what growing up was like for her, or whether I had chicken pox as a child. I will never know whether the 8 year gap between my sister and I was because of infertility. Did they ever miscarry? I will never know.

My parents were my best friends. I never made friends easily, and I spent every second I could with them, and they with me. They went on a holiday without me once when I was 8 and they came home early because they missed me. Oh how I miss them, every second of my life.

But when I grieve for them I can do so openly. People understand. If they ask if I am okay and I say I was just thinking of them, they nod and pretend to understand.

Grieving my miscarriages is something else entirely. It is a hidden grief. People don't understand. Firstly most don't know that I miscarried. Others don't understand even if they do know. They wonder how can I be upset about losing something that hardly began? I never met my children. I have no knowledge whether they were boys or girls. I don't know what color eyes they had or whether they had my red hair. I will never know if they had my father's chin or my mothers fear of heights. People say "but you were hardly pregnant". My own doctor says that we lost Tukka so early that it "didn't count". But it does to me.

Those babies represented everything. They represented the love my husband and I have for each other. The miracle of life, of wanting something so very special between us. They were my hopes, my dreams, validity of my life.

Yesterday my boss handed out thank you cards to those who gave generously to his newborn daughter. I didn't give them anything. I couldn't. It was too raw. Too painful. It would have felt like I was giving them my child. I did contribute to a communal present and signed the card in the normal happy way. Therefore I didn't get a card. That was fine. What upset me was that everyone else who got a card, displayed it proudly at their desks. On the front was a photo of their baby girl. A sweet doll like honey child. I went to speak to someone, only to see the card, and instantly I froze, went pale and had a huge anxiety attack. I wanted to run, run far; my heart was pounding and it took all my will power to compose myself and continue.

As soon as I was able I walked away, and wished the day away so I could escape. I told myself that "I have seen cuter babies", and made remarks about how they don't appreciate how special she is. All of it false but designed to try to make me feel better. I thought about it ever since. Today I couldn't go into work. I had the worst headache, and I have just cried all day. I dropped Hubbs off at work, and coming back a major road was blocked off due to an overturned car. I had to do a big detour, and I called hubbs to let him know and cried while I told him - What is with that? Nobody was hurt. I was okay. I wasn't scared and I wasn't lost as the detour was in an area I used to live, so I knew all the back streets.

I decided to stay home and try to feel better, but have just cried all day and haven't been able to focus much on anything else. I called my Mum's best friend thinking I might visit her, but it "wasn't convenient today" so I made small talk and then bawled my eyes out when I hung up the phone.

I just hate feeling like this. How can I function when my eyes are constantly filled with tears? How can I get on with life; do a good job at work; have a happy house; a happy marriage?

Just how do I go on?

I have been reading all your blogs. I just can't comment right now. I read them and I have nothing to say. I just want to stay in my cave and hide from everything.