How do you describe yourself?

It’s amazing how much this questions changes, at least for me, after you experience infant death. Before I had two daughters die in my arms, I had a clear answer for this.

Before:
Energetic, creative, artsy, bubbly, fun

After:
Mother of twin angels, infertile, grief stricken, failure

This is not a joke. These are my honest feelings. I am NOT that girl I was before I lost the twins. I feel like an old woman with nothing to show for it. I failed at what is supposed to be instinct. I didn’t protect my children while in utero. I know I couldn’t help what happened, and I know I did nothing wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that two helpless, innocent babies died because of the sheer fact that I was their mother.

I’m not a parent, but I am a mother and that’s hell. I didn’t chose to not be a patent. It was thrust abruptly on me.

I don’t even have a headstone for the girls yet. It’s not just the fact that they are expensive, but the fact that I can’t bring myself to looking at them. Putting it all in stone, knowing that dash didn’t span decades, but can be measured in hours and days. That dash was filled with struggle, pain, and a sterile, uninviting bed.

I have to live my dash for 3. I can’t waste it. I have to make every minute count. I have to somehow make a difference.

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6 thoughts on “How do you describe yourself?

  1. Me? Sad. Empty. A husk. Dirty snow.

    My counselor says that I have an identity crisis, that I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t want to be this person that I am today. I am angry and jealous, and I am ashamed to admit that there are times I want other people to be just as miserable as I am, and so I hermit myself off so that I don’t make other people feel guilty for enjoying their lives.

    I wish I could offer you something other than commiseration.

  2. This is something I struggled with for a long, long time. I blamed myself, my body and yet I kept repeatedly being told by medical staff, friends and family I did nothing wrong but it didn’t seem to do anything. So I wrote a poem and it helped me get it all out that way. I will put it in here to see if it helps u, if not delete it.

    What are you doing today?

    Mummy can’t help wondering who is looking after you today?
    Are you playing nicely with the toys you have up there?
    Who is cuddling you, feeding you and guiding you on your way?
    Are you being good or driving the angels spare?

    Mummy wishes that she could turn back the clock
    You’re both safe inside and she feels whole again
    How will she get through this grief deadlock?
    How does she get through this without going insane?

    Mummy is told by everyone, “You did nothing wrong”
    But part of her wonders if she should have spotted infection had set in
    Did she get cocky and think her pregnancy was nice and strong?
    There are no answers to these questions and she’d committed no sin

    Mummy knows that sometimes bad things happen to us
    We just don’t know why this is
    We have to stay positive, even if we want to cuss
    Just remember you were a good mother, just remember you were the biz

  3. This is so true. A lot of things about me are the same, but the core of who I am has changed forever. I’m certainly sadder, more pessimistic, more afraid, and yet stronger, than ever before. I mean… being a mother changes everyone, and being a mother who’s child has died? That changes you exponentially more.

    By the way, although I have a headstone I still haven’t put the ashes into the ground. They are sitting on my nightstand.

  4. Sometimes I wish I could describe myself the way that I used to. But then I remember, if I did that, I wouldn’t know that I could love limitless. That tends to get me through the days of wondering how to answer the age old question.

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