The view from here (more randomness)

I have to pull Sherry's comment from my last post up to the front here:

Yes, the general public needs to be more aware of infant mortality in general. It's almost like an urban legend; most people have heard stories, but don't personally know anyone who's suffered a loss. Therefore, it's easier to assume and believe that all pregnancies end healthfully and happily, rather than to think that something so horrific actually does happen and happens more frequently than a person cares to imagine.

That is exactly it. It is an urban legend. Something that happened to your sister's coworker's neighbour's niece fifteen years ago. Of course, due to my experience, I am on the stillbirth education bandwagon. But Sherry is right - the whole issue of dead babies is an urban legend. Perfect wording!

Next issue to address: I want to sleep. Please. It is so freakin' rare that I actually fall asleep within the same hour as my head touches the pillow that I feel like a raving lunatic some times. I don't drink coffee after noon. I don't nap anymore. But my brain shifts in to overdrive the moment the light goes out. Result? Mornings suck.

It isn't always pregnancy obsession or thoughts of my son that keep me awake (though that may be 70% of the wakefulness). Work stuff. Life stuff. Crazy relatives stuff. However, the past week has mostly been focused around remembering. Remembering what it felt like when we saw our positive pregnancy test result. Remembering what those first few surreal days felt like, when I knew I was pregnant but there were still no physical changes. The absolute naivete of it all.

I am, however, remembering and not reliving. That is a blessed relief. The reliving is scary...the reliving makes you feel like you will never function properly again, that your brain, your spirit and your soul is damaged by the weight of grief that you now must permanently carry with you. Remembering is healthy. Remembering is normal. Remembering actually feels good. No post-trauma stuff in remembering. Just wistfulness, slightly tinged with regret and guilt. I wonder, will that time come when the remembering will bring peace, joy, and gratefulness? I don't know. For now, I am grateful for remembering in the form that it takes, and happy to leave the reliving in the past.

That is today. And yesterday. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. Maybe the reliving will be in my future. But today I am very comfortable with remembering.