You can't win with me...

A friend of mine found this poem after she lost a baby herself some time ago now. I was also given a copy of the poem after we lost our first baby in December 2007. Every now and again I look back on the poem, given 28th December marks 2 years since our precious little angel left us I thought I'd share....

You can't win with me...
If you say to me " How are you going?" with such sympathy and meaning in your voice.
I reply "I'm fine" and brush you off,
because to talk about my loss with you today is just too painful.

If you see me and don't mention the loss that is consuming my thoughts,
I think you don't care enough, or are too scared to mention it
for fear that you might upset me.

You can't win with me.

If you say "I'm sorry your baby died," it is hard for me to reply to that.
What do you expect me to say?
I want to say "I'm sorry too!" or "It's awful"
I want to scream "its not fair"
But I won't because I don't want to upset myself today, not in front of you.
So I reply "Thank-you".

That thanks means so much more than that.
It means thanks for caring,
thanks for trying to help,
thanks for realising that I'm still in pain.

If you don't know what to say to me that's okay
because I don't know what to say to you either.
If you see me smile or laugh
don't assume I must have forgotten my baby for the moment,
I haven't, I can't, I never will.

Tell me that I look good today.
I will know what you mean,
I'm getting good at picking up unspoken cues from you.
If you see me and think I look upset or sad, you are probably right.
Today might be an anniversary day for me,
or some event might have triggered a wave of grief in me.

If you don't say anything I'll think you don't care about me,
but if you do say something, it might make me feel worse.
You could try asking if I want to talk, but don't be surprised if I say no.

You can't win with me.
Don't give up on me, please don't give up.
I need your attempts however feeble,
however trite you might feel they are, I need your thoughts.
I need your prayers.
I need your love.
I need your persistence.

I need all that but most of all I need to be treated normally,
like it used to be before all this happened.
But I know its impossible.
That carefree, naive person is gone forever,
and I am mourning that loss too.

So you can't win with me.

Written by Jane Warland 1996

Last time I posted in here I was in a shocking frame of mind. It was father's day and I was so sick of feeling guilty and horrible because we can't have a child. Thankfully I've got back up, dusted myself off and I'm out there facing the world with a smile on my face again. Some days I mean it, other days the smile is just there for the benefit of everyone else. It's easier to smile and tell people you're fine than it is to speak the truth, they don't understand anyway and their pretending is often patronising.

ANYWAY.... I have loads to keep me busy over the coming months. The landscaper has almost finished the bigger jobs in the yard which means we've got turf, plants, pavers, water features and rocks to organise and lay/install. I'd originally set us with a goal to have it all finished by Saturday 12th December because I wanted to have pre-christmas drinks here with our friends. I've instead decided we will have a small New Year's Eve party which will give us another 4 weeks or so to get it all finished.

Not a lot has been happening, we've fallen back into the work, running around, housework, dinner, dishes then bed routine. It's not much fun but at the moment that's how it is. Hopefully once there's a lot less running around and we get settled in the new place we can spend more time relaxing and enjoying everything the spaces we've created here. In the mean time I'm going to write my Christmas shopping list and create even more running around!

Father's Day

So here it is, upon us for another year. It's Father's Day and frankly, I think it sucks. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and father-in-law and we've wished them both a happy father's day and all that but I still think occasions like this are awful to have to live through given the last few years we've had.

Back on 22nd November 2007 we found out that our second full IVF/ICSI cycle had worked and that we were expecting our very own bundle of joy sometime around 30th July 2009. We shared our news with family and friends on Christmas day and a mere 3 days later on 28th December 2007, our world came crashing down as I miscarried. After a bit of time to grieve we were both fairly keen to keep trying so we went back and had more FETs and on 14th April 2008 we found out that we were again expecting a precious little miracle. This time our happiness was even more short lived when I miscarried our bub on 27th April 2008.

Since then we've had quite a few more transfers as well as another full IVF/ICSI cycle and so far, no success. I've had good days and bad days along the way but today really takes the cake. I can't help but feel somewhat guilty. My hubby is now 30. An age that, had you asked him a few years ago, he would have said he wanted kids by now. This year is now his 4th father's day where he's not had a child of his own to call him Daddy. The one thing he would dearly love and I can't give that to him. I sit here at the moment in tears feeling guilty, sad and angry.

A message I sent to a friend when we lost our first baby sums up how I'm feeling:
I thought the emotions and pain of dealing with IVF and infertility were bad enough but to go through all that and have a glimmer of hope for 9 weeks only to have it snatched away is just so so unfair. Our little baby is gone, our dreams shattered and the best 9 weeks of my life are over.
Needless to say, I still think today sucks.