Monthly Archives: March 2018

Half Empty or Half Full?

Is my glass half empty or half full right now? Truth be told, I’m not sure.

I am guilt-ridden. I’m expecting a rainbow baby, yet here I am, in a foul, negative space in my head right now.

Logic tells me, ” Jess, you have pregnancy hormones to contend with. You’re overtired. You were just really sick a few days ago. You pulled a late night last night chaperoning a Saturday dance. You’re dealing with crazy anxiety. There are many reasons why it’s okay to feel this way right now.”

My emotional side is saying, ” Jess, you’re terrible. You should be happy every day, all the time, because you are pregnant, just like you’ve been wishing for. Your negativity and anxiety is bad for this baby. Stop failing this baby. Maybe you don’t deserve this opportunity. You’re proving you don’t deserve this by being ungrateful. You aren’t remembering Lucy actively enough. You’re not writing enough. You’re not celebrating your rainbow enough. You’re doing everything wrong.”

Hence the self-inflicted guilt trip.

The emotional side of things is winning out today. I’m exhausted, grumpy, irritable. There’s a lot on my mind, but I feel too tired to process it right now. I can’t think of anything that is going to make me feel better, and I know I’m doing this to myself. I’m not good at allowing myself grace on a regular day, but especially not during this pregnancy after loss. I realize this is a time when I should be kinder to myself, but I just can’t for some reason.

Conflicted is pretty much my constant state right now. I wish I could snap out of it, but there are a lot of factors at play right now that just aren’t allowing me to do so. Take my job for instance. I have to be careful what I write even here, because teachers, no matter what their other life circumstances, are judged differently than others. (So are loss parents, but that’s for another post sometime.) I’ll just leave it at this for now: It is impossible to feel like you’re anything other than some form of failure as a teacher in the current state of public education.  The building I work in is absolutely no exception to that statement right now. Unfortunately, that, coupled with my PAL anxiety, is chipping away at my self-esteem and confidence. I’m doubting my ability to handle all of this. I can’t snap out of this funk, and I’m worried it’s a testament to my inability to be a good PAL mom.

I worry a lot. In fact, I’m downright terrified most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, when I can just think about this precious rainbow baby and the possibility and hope he brings with him, I am calmer. When I think about Lucy, I feel the warmth in my heart that she’s always brought with her too. There’s still good mixed in with the negatives, but it’s hard to hang on to that through the whole day. I’m doing my best, but lately, I just feel like my best isn’t good enough.

Here’s to hoping the weather changes soon, that our upcoming Spring Break will refresh me, and that when we return, I can take teaching a little less seriously and focus on the good a bit more.

 

Half full or half empty?

Reflections

I’m ashamed to admit how little time I’ve been able to spend in reflection lately, at a time when I ought to be doing so with great frequency. Time has been a tough commodity to come by these days, and it seems that when I do have a moment or two to sit down and share what’s on my mind, I’m either interrupted, my computer decides to malfunction or update, or I’m simply too tired to record the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through my brain.

As I revealed in Lucy’s 19 month letter, Chris and I have the honor of saying we’re expecting our rainbow at last. There simply aren’t words to express the happiness and hopefulness that this little one has already brought to us.  There have been many moments in which I stop and have to remind myself that it’s real– we’re really pregnant. Though I work through fear and anxiety each day, I’m doing all I can to celebrate this precious little boy growing within me. I truly believe that Lucy had something to do with choosing her baby brother, and I feel her presence with me more vividly. In December, I officially asked Lucy if she wanted to be a big sister (here), and suddenly, what would have just been days later, our little rainbow appeared in our lives. Maybe a coincidence, but I think not.  Some people have already said the phrase, “Looks like God decided it was time.”  Whatever… I think it was a matter of our precious Lucy deciding it was time.

I’m going to do my best to try writing and documenting this special time, because it matters so much to me. It’s been difficult to do that as of late, because my job is truly taking all of my extra energy from me. I worry constantly now about how the stress of teaching is impacting this pregnancy; it’s a legitimate concern. I keep trying to remind myself that it’s only a job, that I can only do what I can while I’m there, but it’s much more complicated than that. I often leave work feeling the heaviness of the day as if someone is standing upon my shoulders. When I arrive home, I’m emotionally and physically spent.  I’m bothered by the realization that it’s robbing me of some of the hope and joy of our situation. I’m working on strategies to manage these feelings, but it’s hard. While I am so incredibly thankful for this opportunity to potentially experience parenting in a different way, it’s true that pregnancy after loss is hard. I worry, and then I worry some more that the resulting anxiety from that worry is having a negative impact on this baby boy. I’m just trying to do be the best mom I can be to this baby, but sometimes, it feels like I’m just not living up to those expectations.

There’s so much more to say, but it’ll have to come out in small segments. We’re 15 weeks in to this rainbow pregnancy, and already I have learned many things. Joy can exist alongside grief. Hope can be stronger than fear. My Lucy is always with me, and she’ll be with me every step of the way through this PAL (pregnancy after loss) journey.

Nineteen Months

My sweet Lucy,

It’s been nineteen months now without you, precious girl, but I want you to know that no matter how much time separates us, you are always part of us. No matter how our family changes, you are so loved, and you hold a very important place in our hearts.

I miss you terribly today.

We’ve announced your little brother to the world, and know that you had a very important hand in finding him. In December, I asked you if you wanted to be a big sister and for your blessing. Lo and behold, we found out a few weeks later that you are indeed going  to be a big sister! I don’t think that’s a coincidence, and I know in my heart that you’re happy about all of this. I just wish so, so much that you could be here with us for all of this. Now when I see a family with an older girl and younger boy, my heart feels a new longing and sorrow. I’ve said all along how unfair it is that you’re not here with us, and now there are new reasons for that to hurt more. But no matter what, your Daddy and I know how lucky we are to have your little brother on the way, and you in our hearts. I know you’ll watch over him as you do us. I just wish I could have both of you in my arms.

I have been seeing so many things over the past few days that remind me of you, and have been finding your little signs here and there. I always notice them, and I’ll always treasure them. Like I’ve said, you’re part of me, and always on my mind, sweet baby. Though I miss you like crazy, I feel you close. I love you so much Lucy.

Love always and forever,

Mommy