all done
My family is very tired of my grief.
My mother can't understand why I'm still sad. She thinks I've been indulged enough and that it's time that I start being more concerned about others. Like my stepbrother, whose little girl is the same age as my twins would have been. Or my other stepbrother, whose wife is expecting their third perfect healthy baby some time in the next few weeks. She says it's selfish and self centered to keep wallowing in my grief and not to consider how other people are affected by my behavior. She says I should enjoy my siblings' babies instead of resenting them.
My father is furious that I don't participate in family gatherings. He tells me that I've gotten myself stuck. Every time I talk to him he tells me that if I'm still unhappy after all these months I need to increase my dosage of antidepressants until I stop being sad. He says that, after a certain time, you have to stop mourning and move on with your life.
I know you're all going to say that what they're saying is unfair and wrong. But I can't help wondering if they're right. My grief does seem to be going on and on and isolating me more and more from my family. Maybe it doesn't make sense for me to continue to be so sad about two babies who never really even lived.
Edited to add: It's so hard for me to express how much I value all of your thoughts and concern. I've been reading and rereading your comments. And what you've said makes me see that it's not just my parents' issue. For a long time now, I've been trying as hard as I can to squeeze my grief into a small a space as possible. That's why I can't remember the dates that things happened. That's why I can't say the babies' names. That's why I don't want to talk about them. Of course, I have all of you, but in real life I think it's fair to say that I'm pretty much on my own.
Here's the vignette that I think encapsulates it perfectly: after the c-section, I woke up in the recovery room and saw that there was no-one else there. I could see sunlight shining in one of the windows, but the room was entirely empty. After what seemed like a long time, a nurse came in and got me a drink of water. Then she left and I was all alone again. No-one came to see me. No-one told me what had happened to the baby. I assumed she was dead, because I was sure that someone would have said something if she were still alive. After a while, a nurse wheeled me into a hospital room. Then she left and I was all alone again. And as I lay there, I realized that this was something that no-one was going to help me with. That it was all up to me and I was going to have to figure out a way to handle it all by myself.
46 comments:
You are sad BECAUSE they never got to do what we all think of as live. Because you never got to have what others get so easily.
You know I don't agree with your family. My MIL is of the opinion that we "roll" in our grief. Right. Guess how much I like seeing her.
I think it's unfair to put the burden on a grieving person. Let's for a moment consider who is hurt more-- a parent whose children are dead or a sibling whose sibling won't come around to admire their perfectly happy and healthy baby? While there are evidently people who would disagree (see over at Sara's and Wannabe mom's), I think a clear majority of us over here would have to go with a grieving parent on this one. How about your siblings enjoy their babies instead of resenting you for not enjoying those very same LIVE babies? They can also try a mental experiment where they look around their house and try to imagine it without that baby. And then they should speak again. But very carefully.
I think very often people misunderstand what it means to grieve a child who died before/during/shortly after birth. Either they compare it with grieving a loss they themselves have experienced, or they have some misguided notion of what grief is "supposed" to look like based on some generalized sociatal expectation (or whatever). I am not an expert on grief, I only know what I have experienced myself and what I have heard from other women who have shared their experiences with me. It is *normal* to be incapable of being emotionally and often physically available for others. This can last for a long time. It is also very *normal* to have difficulty being around pregnant women, babies, families, etc. ESPECIALLY babies who are the same age as your babies would be if they had lived. Since you are dealing with a situation where your family members are also having babies, it just makes that strain even harder. There is no magical time-frame for when you will start to feel better and more capable of being there for others. That being said, I do not think your grief is going on and on (I'm not sure exactly how long you have been grieving). I was told that it can take 18 to 24 months before your emotional state returns to levels that are comparable to before the loss. What this means is that you will be far more prone to sadness and anger, and react to things more intensely than before. I will tell you as well that I did start to feel like I "turned a corner" in my grieving after the one year mark. I'm sorry to write such a long comment. And I do not mean to dismiss your feelings, either, sometimes I share that same thought that maybe it doesn't make sense. But I believe it does. Our babies were alive, and our pain and our grief encompasses all that was, all that should have been, and all that will never be.
There is no "supposed to" with grief. We grieve like we live in our own way and it takes as long as it needs to.
While I appreciate you wanting to protect your family from some of what we would say about them and their view of your grief, you are the only one who can decide when you are done grieving or to what extent.
Are you doing your family any favors by pretending that what you have lost doesn't impact you profoundly? Don't they realize it's not just what you have lost, but what they have as well?
No one can know what it is like to go through what you have but you. And maybe the sadness you feel is more profound around them and they need to realize they might actually be excacerbating the issue. I guess I say this because it feels like it in my case.
You probably can't help wondering if your mother is right because she's a trained professional and should "know", right? I think that probably complicates things - at least with her.
I don't know what to say besides they cannot tell you how or what to feel. Hugs.
Has any one of them ever had an experience close to what you've had? I think it's hard for most people to understand, otherwise. I've certainly not been where you are, but all the months of wanting a baby helped me to glimpse a little of how horrible it would be to lose one. Before that, I'm afraid I didn't have a very developed sense of empathy (or even sympathy) for pregnancy loss.
I don't have to tell you that your grief is yours to experience how you want to, because you know that.
On the other hand, maybe you want to see their point because you're exhausted.
I don't think it matters whether they're wrong or right. If you are still in a lot of pain, you have two options. Be yourself around them or lie around them. Which would they rather have?
I really don't understand why people say things like that. What does it help? Are comments like those going to magically make you all better? Can you be guilted out of grief?
I think they're right in their ideas, but wrong to try to put a timeline on it.
Niobe--embrace your feelings. They are yours and no one else's. Own them, love them, give them all the attention they demand. Only then will they grow wings and fly away, leaving peacefulness in their wake. There is no timeline on grief.
Boo hiss! Anyone telling you how to feel is not right. Since this is coming from your parents, I think it's natural to feel like there's some truth. Only you know what to do with your grief. If it overtakes you, so be it. If some days you feel like being around your family, I would hope they could appreciate those times. I'm with Julia on the unfairness of putting the burden on the grieving person. I hope you can eventually find a "be" that brings you peace, in due time.
i think sometimes the people who are closest to us - or rather, who are our parents and thus feel most uncomfortable with us being terribly sad - are often the most impatient. but i do think it's their problem, not yours. your problem is that your babies didn't get to live. i see that as plenty to be sad about, Niobe.
i am with Julia on this one...the burden ought not to be on you to accommodate yourself to their reality, especially if their version of "the world this summer" forces you to deny your grief. and i am not sure that the other people affected by your behaviour are your problem. i assume they're adults? perhaps the stepsiblings you mentioned, who have children of their own? i think the burden should be on them to consider how damn lucky they are, and give you some room to be whatever way you need to be, and support you if they can, even if that's just by staying away.
of course, this perfect world of which i speak, where all these shoulds actually happen? if i find it, i'll send you an airline ticket to join me. ;)
Take all of the time you need. If they don't understand then just remove yourself from their company until it does not pain you. Now I do believe in growth, when you are ready. When it is time to try an outing where you know babies will be and you feel ready, try it. It may suprise you and you may grow. However being forced to go is not going to do it. Your father is furious at you for not going to family gatherings? IS this the same father who did not see you in the hospital? (forgive me if I confused your blog with another). They don't have to understand your grief, and neither do you really. Just do what causes you the least amount of pain.
they are confused and sad and are frustrated that they cannot help you feel better. or as they wish you to feel. but your grief belongs to you and not them.
i just read "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion, and found it a very interestin exploration of grief, and how it manifested itself in her life. She also delves into what is considered "normal" and how the way that people are expected or allowed to grieve has changed over time.
This is still early stages for grieving as everyone above has said I don't know if you read that article on happiness I posted on my blog last Sunday, but there are a couple of quotes I think would fit.
As for your mother, tell her to look up the phrase "complicated grief". It's a new diagnosis being added to the next DSM. It refers to any kind of grief that continues on longer than a few weeks, and involved any loss which is a death considered "out of time" or a loss which is minimized and dismissed by society. The resulting grief is the kind which persists as long as the people around the griever continue to shunt aside the feelings expressed by the person.
The cure: acknowledgement, social legitimacy, and generosity towards the griever. Listening to them tell their story and discuss their feelings over and over again, and validating them as worthy of attention.
And if this doesn't work....well then, email me, I've got a pile up PubMed references that just might do it.
Alternative plan: Tell them all to go suck a lemon.
The only person who can really answer your questions is you. But (and here's the kicker), if you are anything like me, you may not be able to seperate the expectations of your parents from the true feelings deep in your soul.
What do you need? Do you need your family to understand that your feelings are legitimate and you simply have to go where they take you? If so, then you may need someone (partner, sister, etc.) to stand up for you and tell them what you need. Because I am not sure that this is something that YOU could do and have your parents acknowledge it properly (they may just see it as more "wallowing").
On the other hand, if YOU feel deep down that you need to move on and put things behind you, you may need to search out healty ways to start doing that. And you will still need someone there to help you through it. I truly believe that grief just CAN'T be a one-man show.
Regardless of the direction this goes, it is going to be really f-ing hard. And feeling judged by the people who love you most makes the tasks ahead seem so impossible.
Also:
- most experts agree that bereaved parents take longer to return to "normal" - I read 5 years on average (somewhere - sorry I can't tell you where)
- as I understand it, antidepressants don't really make you feel less sad, they just help you to cope with life despite the sadness. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but that is how it was explained to me.
- I think your babies "really" lived.
All of this: Just my opinion - take it or leave it.
P.S. The stat was from this book: http://www.amazon.com/When-Bough-Breaks-Forever-Daughter/dp/0836252829
they suck. ok, it's a bit more complicated. if they weren't family you could just cut them out of your life,but the screwy part is you need them.
i have not gone through the hell that you and some of the other commenters have so i do not have that much to add. Although, i have watched two aunts mourn the loss of their children. It took them about five years to be anywhere near *happy.* One said she felt like someone had cut her arm off and she just keeps bleeding out. (this is five years afterwards) I belive her.
Your mourning their death and the fact that you may never have your own children, that you tried and tried and tried, got pregnant, almost got to the finish line and then....well, someone cut your arm off and you're bleeding out.
how long you grieve is up to you. if you're *functioning,* not isolated, then *i* think all is well.
you will NEVER get over it...the unbearable rawness will dull but that's it.
i'm sure they mean well, but that doesn't seem very supportive, especially for 'professionals.' (with your own children you lack objectivity anyway.)
Most people have already said what I would want to say.
Of course I only know what you've written on this blog, but it seems to me your family has not allowed you to have much grief at all. And as Aurelia wrote, that won't help much in your recovery.
I would add, though, like Christina, that you aren't just grieving your twins. You're grieving the loss of any hope of ever having a happy, uncomplicated pregnancy - you're frightened even about surrogacy.
I can't see how being "furious" with you or saying you've been indulged and are self-centered can possibly be meant to help you feel more comfortable around your family. Isolating yourself isn't good, I agree, you need someone to turn to, but those comments can't possibly breed trust.
I don't have any advice, but I think Aurelia has some good thoughts on how to handle this with your family. I hope they can understand and try to find some more empathy and compassion for your loss.
I really appreciate everyone's thoughts on this. I've given this some more thought and realized that this whole issue is complicated by the messy family dynamics.
As I'm sure I've mentioned, my parents divorced when I was very young. Both of them remarried people who had children from previous marriages and each of my parents then had another child with their new spouse.
The result is that there are two families (family 1: my mother, my stepfather, my stepfather's kids from his previous marriage and my mother and stepfather's child; family 2: my father, my stepmother, my stepmother's kids from her previous marriage and my father and stepmother's child).
But, for various reasons, I'm not really considered part of either family (and my "real" brother, my one full sibling, isn't either), so that anything that makes me even more isolated from my various relatives is very difficult for everyone involved to deal with.
Telling people to get over something never really works. It only invalidates all their emotions. Sorry you are being further isolated from the group that should be a source a support.
Niobe,
Everyone else has brought up some really good points already. I have said it a million times, and I will say it a million more.
Do what is right for YOU.
If that means actively grieving, so be it, if that means "pretending" a bit when around your family, so be it. However, the "pretending" bit, in my experience creates or widens any already existing distance with people. But, quite frankly, it doesn't sound like your family is truly being there for you anyway.
Like some other posters said, you are not only grieving your babies, but the loss of your beliefs, hopes, dreams, future, and battling overwhelming fear of "what next?" It won't just go away, you need to walk through the nastiness, even if it pisses people off and makes them uncomfortable.
In regards to the other babies in your family, I agree with someone else...why should YOU be the one to deal? If they feel you can "suck it up" and be there for them, well, they can just as easily do the same for you.
Okay, I am sorry, now I am babbling and going all over the place. It just frustrates and saddens me to hear you are not getting the unconditional acceptance you deserve.
I'm gonna add one more small thing that may be none of my business and you may hate me for. I was wondering if you have ever done/or do anything to "remember" the twins. Even something very small, a lit candle, or a piece of jewelry worn for them. I ask because those small things acknowledging my loss helped me so much. Okay, thats it, I'm done. I hope i didn't overstep there.
Thinking of you Niobe.
Niobe, I am sorry your family is being so insensitive, due to complicated dynamics or not.
Aurelia wrote to well on complicated grief, but I realized that, on some level, people knew about such things for ages. I've been told that Jewish wisdom warns that bereaved people are not to be discouraged from mourning, no matter how long and how hard.
When I found out my second pregnancy was non-viable, the first thing I did was ask to have my dose of ani-depressants upped. I have clinical depression and dealing with another miscarriage made me feel like I was in emotional free-fall, which was terrifying. My doctor told me she would up it, but not to the level I was on before trying to conceive because it can hinder the grieving process.
I think there is a finite amount (which varies due to the individual and the situation) that you have to grieve, and you can either give it to it and process it, or you can pretend everything is okay and have it rear its ugly head later. My OB felt that taking too high a dose of the anti-depressant might interfere with the process, in which case my mind would just file it away for later.
I started seeing a therapist, just to work through the process. I have only been twice so far, but I would highly recommend talking with a professional if you have not already.
I think you will always be sad. I know I will. And they did really live. They lived inside of you! They were alive and their lives were like a little secret inside you that only you knew them best.
I hate to say this, but I think part of the reason your parents are reacting this way is because they feel helpless in your grief. It is almost like they've lost their daughter in a way and just as we desperately want our children back, they want you to come back to them. There is no time limit on grief so please don't feel pressure for what you "should" be feeling. You've not only lost a child, you've lost two, and suffered what most will never know until they have lived to see their children die. *cyber hug*(not as squishy as a real one)
Niobe, just following up on your point about family dynamics...my parents also divorced when i was very young, and though my mother never remarried, my father did immediately and has a whole other family. of which i am sort of a part, but not really, and never have been. and you're right, that makes it all the harder to communicate anything difficult because you don't fully share in the discourse that family uses to make sense of things, not is it necessarily your way of making sense of things...but if your families don't acknowledge that you don't share their "way," whatever it may be, then that unacknowledged difference may make it literally impossible for you and they to come to any concurrence on their expectations of your grief, because they may only be able to see you through their own limited lenses.
which is, of course, once again about them having the problem, not you. but it doesn't make it any easier for you to be stuck with those expectations...sorry about that.
in my own case, none of my adult half-siblings so much as emailed or called during the period when i was in the hospital or when Finn died. i just more or less stopped talking to all of them, father & step-mother included, except in perfunctory ways. luckily, their family discourse is so focused on avoidance that no one has actually called me out on that one, either. and i have the primary family of my mother who was a little more able to acknowledge and honour my grief, at least for a short period of time. but really, in my struggle with the "complicated grief" Aurelia mentioned, it's been blogging that's helped most. and time. a lot of time. my loss happened about eighteen months before yours, i think, and i've had the freaking luck to be blessed with a healthy, living child in the meantime, and only now do i feel at all like i'm really not a walking open wound of sadness and bitterness.
that was probably horribly unhelpful. shutting up now.
Something to ask yourself:
Does this grief keep you from functioning?
Seems like a simple question...but really think about it. Look at it from a lot of different aspects of life.
I just randomly found your blog. I have no idea what you've been through. But I do know that people do get stuck in their grief. It doesn't make it wrong....
At times, I still get stuck with my own grief over things.
When people say things like this it really upsets me. Who is anybody to judge when somebody should be over their grief and sadness. Everybody heals at their own pace. Some can just get right back up and others take a while.
This really upsets me that they would say these things to you. I find it very mean and hurtfull. You just keep doing what you need to do to get by.
I'm so sorry that your family is making this more difficult for you. I don't think anyone can tell you how to grieve and how long to grieve. I think its up to you when you are ready and I think you should take as long as you need. I think its also hard for others to understand unlese you've walked in ones shoes.
You can be part of our family. :)
Grief is so different for everyone. And we base our expectations as to how others will grieve on our own experiences and timelines.
I'd say a hiatus from your family isn't a bad idea.
Renae
To be honest, I find it very odd that people expect you to "get over it" so quickly. Isn't at least part of what you are grieving all the things that are not going to happen? Which you are terribly reminded of when you see other children of the age yours would have been? How can you ever get over the fact that they are there, smiling and jumping, and yours are not? My situation, my grief is very different from yours, but at least in my experience, grief is not linear. Some days I'm fine, and others I cry because I miss my mom. I don't want to imagine having to miss my child.
Um... Just read your update.
Holy shit, Niobe. You woke up alone. Holy shit.
That you were left alone after the c-section is one of the saddest things I have every heard. Appalling.
I'm weighing in late and I haven't read anyone else's comments, but here goes...
After over two years of dealing with my grief, the one thing I've learned is that it doesn't go away. It's never going to go away. Ever. All I can do is learn how to live with it and accept that it's part of who I am.
And you know what? That's everyone else's job too. They may want you to be the old Niobe they once knew, but you aren't that girl and they need to get used to that.
If you got hit by a bus and lost a leg, would they expect you to walk the next day? Would they be upset that you weren't? Just because they can't see your wounds doesn't mean that they have the right to determine that they aren't serious and still very, very painful.
If they're concerned about you that's one thing. They know you better than we do - they see you in a way we don't. But if it's just that they would rather you be "normal" so they don't have to deal with watching your sorrow, then I'm sorry, that's selfish and cold.
My Mom and I were talking tonight and the last thing she said to me (over and over and over again, actually) is that my normal IS normal. Whatever I'm feeling is normal for me now in my post Thomas world. And if that bothers the rest of the planet, it's their problem, not mine.
I try very hard not to wallow in my sorrow. I try to make it my cross to bear, not anyone else's. But as I'm doing that, I'm also hoping (and yeah, kind of expecting) that the world will have patience with me and recognize that things might be harder for me than they used to be.
You know, not long after Thomas died I read a paper (intended for physicians) that said the majority of bereaved parents said it usually takes at LEAST two years to start feeling somewhat normal again. At least. And only somewhat.
No one should expect you to grieve and heal the way THEY think is right. No one. I'm so sorry they're expecting so much of you.
I would like to come and bitch slap them for doing so. Just for a little while.
((((((((HUGS))))))))
I've kind of been out of it, but I wish I had seen this post earlier. I don't have any answers for you to the question of whether your grief or your parents' perspective on it is right or wrong, but I wanted to tell you that my sister and I were pregnant with our first children - both boys - at exactly the same time with virtually the same due dates. Neither of us planned to have more than one pregnancy, so we thought of our boys as cousin-twins who would always have each other. My nephew was born two weeks early, and I thought, great - my son is just around the corner! Except that two weeks later my son was stillborn. Two more weeks later, we had a memorial service for him, and my long-distance family -including my sister and my now four week old nephew - came into town for it. I felt awkward with my sister, and she with me, and I was privately critical of my nephew ("He looks a little like Buddy Hackett!") to console myself and yet I loved him, too. Two and a half years later, I still have a complicated relationship with my sister and her son; the time I spend with them is both painful and precious: painful because I see all I and my first son are missing, but precious because I get a glimpse into what he might be like at that age - maybe a twisted treasure, but a treasure nonetheless. Now that my second son is old enough to interact with my nephew, watching them together brings a new combination of pleasure and pain: what my two sons might have been like together. It's a flawed vision, because if my first son had lived there almost certainly wouldn't have been a second son. I tell you this partly (in all honesty) just to get it off my chest but also to let you know that these situations are just weird, and there's no way around it. I could write another book about parental expectations, but I've already gone on too long here. My wish for you is that you find a way to live in both your own grief and in the life of the living people you care about. It's not easy, but I think it beats giving up one or the other.
It's taken me a while to get back to this but I've wanted to respond again for a while. First, I echo everything Msfitzita said. Second, it was not right that you were alone. It's not right that the staff at the hospital didn't show you more compassion. I cannot grasp it. I cannot understand. Of course we in blogland are not enough.
When you describe your family's attitudes, I get positively enraged. The other day I figured out why. My husband said he feels about his families (again a situation of multiple marriages and children where he's the product of the relationship that ended in divorce) the way you describe your place in yours. And for as long as I've known Josh I've been pissed off at the way he's expected to negotiate their needs as the one who's not quite completely a member of any one them, as if he's something of an extra. I cannot comprehend that. So maybe I'm projecting here, maybe that's not what you're expressing, but if it's at all close, it's so unfair. I want to shake them all!
I am sorry you've had to find that little place to squeeze yourself and your grief. I hate that you've felt all alone from the beginning and that despite that, your family still cannot find a way to help you grieve. What about L? Where is he in all of this?
Sara: You've put it perfectly. My brother and I, like Josh, are the extras. We aren't really part of either family. Often we're not invited to family events and, when we are, it's always as kind of an afterthought.
I'm not saying this in an effort to generate sympathy for myself or to criticize my parents. It's more to explain that my position in both families is precarious enough that it's very hard to cope with something that threatens to distance me even further from them.
I've also thought a lot about the attitude of my doctors. And, while I'm not trying to excuse the way they acted, I think I can understand it. Even in my high-risk OB practice, the overwhelming majority of pregnancies end with the birth of a healthy baby. I must have represented a terrible, painful failure for them, even if there's really nothing that anyone could have done to produce a better outcome.
What you say makes perfect sense. I had the apparently extraordinary experience, I guess, of being awake throughout. No one could get away from me.
As for your family, what you say makes sense too. I'm still annoyed by it, but perhaps there just isn't a way out. I can say talk to them, yell, cry all that I want but that's what would work in my smaller much less complicated family. Like Josh's mom (I have no concern for his dad) your parents have all these other awkward relationships to negotiate. I'm sorry. I guess in a way it is up to you to decide where and how you can meet their expectations. I hope you can tell them something of your feelings, and that they can grasp something of it and help you to get to where you can be with them more comfortably. It just doesn't seem like you're ready to stop mourning, and I don't know you in real life, but I don't think it can be forced. Acting might work I suppose, but I at least can't pull that off indefinitely.
Niobe,
I've come back and reread this, and I just can't comprehend that you were left alone like that.
Even in a high-risk OB practice, they deal with this all the time and they know how to do it right. Anywhere from 20-30% of babies in high-risk die. It's the dirty little secret no one talks about. I've attended training sessions on family centred maternity care, and there is an entire curriculumn on how to help parents when their babies die.
The number one rule is NEVER to leave someone alone. There are entire teams of people that kick into action when this happens. Social workers, therapists, high-risk nurses, where the hell were they? I assumed that you had told them all to go away, but you were abandoned.
The nurses and Docs and the hospital should all be sued for malpractice. I'm so angry for you right now, I can barely type.
Really truly, I have documents, links that can show you what your hospital should have done. Heck, I can check if your hospital has programs and just dropped the ball.
Things like this make me lose it.
Niobe,
Sorry to read that you were left alone at this difficult time. I guess the time for blame is over, but I think if it bothers you a lot (which I assume it does), write a letter to the staff so they don't do the same thing again. I know I suggested you write a letter to your Rabbi too, but I think it helps you and it helps them. I'm glad that you blogged about it, as painful as it must have been. I hope doing so helped to ease the pain a little. Again, I'm sorry that you had to experience that.
My heart goes out to you. I am so upset for you that you were left alone at that time.
I just saw the edit at the end and all the newer comments. I am slow like that.
I have no excuses for your doctors. Mine was in my room before 8 am in the morning while I was being induced, even though he was not one of the doctors scheduled to be on the floor that day and had many other obligations. He came back to do the amnio because he though we should make sure to have fresh cells for karyotyping and for the infection analysis for the autopsy. This is how we know there was bacteria in the sack while membranes were intact. He was back the next morning, and he asked whether it would be ok for his nurse to come by. And she did. And then she kept in touch with me and she must've put some sort of notice in my file because when I call, even though it's a huge practice, as soon as they type in my number and get the file on the screen, I get immediate attention, no being put on hold, or they will call you back. I think your hospital dropped the ball. And I think it's incredibly sad that they left you alone like that.
I just saw the edit too, because of Sara's blog. It is simply horrid and totally unconscionable that you were abandoned like that. I am just very sorry.
I didn't respond earlier to your post though i saw it...i was not sure what to add. Everyone else has said basically what i would say. My mother has always thought and said things similar to what your parents have said and that has always been very difficult for me. I no longer speak to my mother about Nicolas at all for this reason.
Also, i don't know if you want an invite to my blog at this time or not (it's pretty much no content, just alot of baby pictures) but if you ever do, email me & i will add you.
I'm very late to the party (bad choice of words) on this one. So many good and useful things I have been said, that I won't repeat them.
I only wanted to say that I understand the dilemma of sometimes giving off a "go away" vibe that you don't mean to give off. I do that myself it seems... and I'm not sure quite why or how. Although, I did not have the horrible experience of abandonment you did in the hospital. That makes me angry and unbelievably sad.
i am so sad that you woke up alone. and mad. i like monica's suggestion about writing a letter to the hospital, it might be therapeutic for you and helpful for another mom.
regarding the fam, my husband always says that things would be different if his mom were alive. my fil claims that his wife's kids care about him more than his own, although he does a fine job of pushing his kids away.
my heart in all of its pain and sorrow goes out to you.
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