Monday, September 26, 2005

Stay at home whatever-I-am

I have one of the easiest and one of the hardest jobs ever. I'm a stay at home mom to a baby who isn't here anymore. My job is easy because Thomas is an incredibly low-maintenance baby. And perfect too. He never gives us a moment's trouble. Never has and never will.

It's hard a job because it's one I didn't plan for and don't quite no how to do all that well yet. So far it seems to entail cleaning, cooking, organizing, grocery shopping and crying. And missing Thomas like crazy.

I'm not working right now because, well, there are a lot of reasons. But mostly it's because I don't know how much stress contributed to what happened to Thomas and me, but if I do get pregnant again I don't want to have to wonder and worry about what a 2.5 hours daily commute and a stressful job is doing to the precious new little life inside me.

Granted that's a big if. I have no idea if we'll be able to get pregnant again or if a new little soul will decide to stick around. In addition to our Thomas, two other souls have tiptoed into and out of my body since we started trying. There's no guarantee that there aren't other small souls waiting for their turn to tiptoe in and out too.

If no new little life decides to call me home for a nice, long, happy 9 months I'll have to re-evaluate things and, most likely, head back out into the working world.

I know I'll probably want and need that then. I'll need something else to feel full because I know if that day comes I'll be feeling even more empty and broken than I do right now and I'll need to search hard for something to keep me happy and fulfilled. Not that My Beloved doesn't, but I can't make him responsible for fulfilling me. If I'm never going to be a mother to earth-dwelling children I'll need something else to do to make my life a worthwhile one.

I hate thinking like this, but I'm 35. It's a reality I have to face - or at least think about - so I'm not blindsided the way I was when Thomas died.

I must always be as mentally prepared as possible now. I can't deal with any more of those kind of surprises. And I hope I never, ever, ever have to.

P.S. I have to give credit where it's due. Jill (one of my sisters in sorrow) uses the term "tiptoed in and out" in reference to her miscarriages. I thought the phrasing was very sweet and I've borrowed it from her. Thanks Jill.


Jill said...

Hey, you're more than welcome:) Are you actively trying now? (Does it ever stop??) Are you with specialists t this point or still trying the 'old fashioned' way?

I think with work and everything, the best you can do is re-evaluate on a daily basis and take it from there:)


Julie said...

I remember those first few weeks and months all too well feeling so lost and not being able to really place that feeling. Then I figured it out. All that time I had off of work, it was supposed to be used to take care of my baby, but he was gone. The only taking care of him I could do was clean off his grave and bring things to him. The rest of the time I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to do. So I sobbed. ALOT.

You are doing an amazing job at figuring it all out. And like Jill said, you just have to re-evaluate things on a day to day basis.

Sending you big hugs.....

Catherine said...

The worst for me are the nights. When I'm awake and thinking about how I should be quieting a screaming baby so that the rest of the house can get some sleep. How I should be so tired I can't even see straight. I think that's why I jumped back into work as soon as I I could feel at least somewhat useful to myself. I KNOW my level of work has dropped off (in fact, I should be working right now). But I'm doing the best I can and luckily the people around me realize this. I hope you're able to find something that helps you fill the void just a little bit.