When I first found out, at 15 weeks, that I was pregnant with triplets, I got all kinds of advice. One of the things I was told, by more than 1 woman, was to find a good Moms of Multiples Club and join. So I did. I was looking forward to meeting moms who had "been there, done that". I knew they would be a wealth of information and tips on how to make life with triplets a little easier to navigate.
As much as I wanted to go to a few meetings before I delivered the boys, it never happened. The meetings always seemed to be on a night when we had something else going on, or I was too far along to drive myself anywhere anymore, and so on. Then Boe died.
A few members of the club have reached out to me over the last year, but I let my club membership expire. I no longer feel like I have a palce with them. Sure, all 3 of my boys' names are listed in my directory profile, but they would only ever meet 2 of them. Although I intensely dislike assumptions, I just assumed that no one else in that club could possibly understand what I was going through, and I severed all ties before really ever even getting involved.
I mention this solely because I have noticed how very isolating this kind of grief is. I, as Boe's mother, want people to feel that they can ask about him or me, uncomfortable though it may be. Check in on us, I guess. People feel as though they can't or shouldn't ask because it will be sad; almost as if the sadness I feel will be contagious and spread to them like an awful disease. Guess what? IT WILL ALWAYS BE SAD. Yes, hearing Boe's name spoken inevitably brings tears to my eyes, but not hearing it is exponentially more painful.
As I look back over the last 16 months, I see how many people have chosen to distance themselves from Adam and me. That's fine, we have made many wonderful new friends on this journey; friends who "get it" because they, too , have suffered a loss. This doesn't really bother me so much as the people who appear to be "involved" in my (our) life, yet only when the mood strikes them.
I openly and unabashedly admit that I feel (recently, anyway) as though I relate better to those who have lost a child. Maybe it's just where I'm at in my grief, and it will pass. BUT, I can't help but feel so isolated from the rest of the world.
I am with my kids all day, everyday. Yes, my husband is very good about giving me breaks, and we have family who will watch the kids when we want to go out to dinner or a movie, but, by and large, my life is no longer my own to do as I choose. Don't get me wrong, I love my children, but this can be very isolating in and of itself, couple that with grief and the stigma of being a woman who has lost a child, and I may as well be in solitary confinement.
I feel like I am still making pretty much the same efforts I always have to reach out to friends, a few of whom are out of state. Ironically enough, I feel like the out of state friends keep in better touch with me than the some of the in state ones.
I get the sense that I am beginning to ramble, so I'll just make my point. This lonliness SUCKS. Feeling like I have no one except Barney or Elmo to confide in SUCKS. Feeling like I am always the one calling, texting, emailing SUCKS (are your fingers broken??). Yes, we all have day to day stuff that needs to get done in our lives, but I really don't like feeling like I am the one doing all the work to check in and see how your life is going only to have you not even acknowledge my effort for days or respond to me with some random comment that has nothing to do with how you are.
I need to know that I am surrounded by people who get who I was, who I currently am, and who I hope to be as I make my way through this. If you don't have the fortitude to see me or our friendship through that - PEACE OUT. No hard feelings, just goodbye will do.
I don't need anyone to hold my hand, I just need to know I am not the only one who gives a shit. I need to know that in the midst of your crazy life, you sometimes think of me too. I apologize if this was an unorganized post, I have a feeling it really got off track, but the more I wrote, the more I realized how very irritated and pissed off I am right now. That's all, I do hope I have not frightened you off.