Small Wonders

Let it go
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don’t you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels

I’m trying to move forward, trying to remember that I went through this- and maybe that’s part of the extra doses of midazolam that I asked for, to not be able to remember more than snippets of the technical side of things, when really I remember thinking at the time "I’m too awake to survive this". I don’t really remember most of the details, and at least the ones I do remember, I seem strangely detached from. I’ll take it.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours
These small hours
Still remain

Jack said this song reminds him of me, of us. Interesting, for from the lyrics it seems like it could be about love, it could be about loss, it could be about faith in good things. I’m glad it reminds him of me, and I hope that like I am, he is also moving onwards from all of this. We both had too much sadness and too much hurt in the past month, at least too much in the sense that we really weren’t prepared for it, at all. And really, how can you be? After the whole dreaded 12 weeks into it, the risk of loss is so low, I guess you always hope with all of your heart that it doesn’t happen to you. I feel robbed, in a sense, but I don’t feel the need to lay blame. Just… empty about it all, in a sad way. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever was even pregnant, that all of the belly thoughts and joy was just a phase, just a dream, now a faded memory in just the two weeks that have passed.

Let it slide
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine,
Till you feel it all around you
And I don’t mind
If it’s me you need to turn to
We’ll get by
It’s the heart that really matters in the end

My memory bracelet arrived on the two week mark of losing our baby girl. Its a good talisman for me, a transfer from the flowers that were brightening my days but since wilted and past their prime. Something I can touch to remind me that what I went through was real, and happened, and that I’ve survived it, my marriage has survived it, that there may be hope for future babies…The bracelet is simple, a stamped silver circle on a link of circles, with one simple pearl that jingles as I move. It helps, somehow.

I don’t have to work in the ICU for another week, with my two shifts back this past week and my ‘return to work’ program giving me needed time and space from the brain dead 4 year old I cared for this past week. I like my work, but its just so much sadness these days, and sadness isn’t something I’ve got a lot of extra resources to manage right now.

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours
These small hours
Still remain
 

I have been trying to be gentle with myself. I’ve been working out, doing some baking, cleaning house, working on my research project and contemplating picking up the ol’ thesis work again. I’m trying to remember that I’m still me, that this won’t destroy me even if it did take its toll on my spirit. I don’t wake up in a tortured panic of emotions anymore. Mornings are becoming better, getting motivated is becoming a little easier. Bit by bit, I’m healing and learning how to get through this.

All of my regret
Will wash away somehow
But I cannot forget
the way I feel right now

I like to think, that she would have suffocated inside me with her congestive heart failure, and though there was a slight placental filter, that she got just as much fentanyl and midazolam as I did, and hopefully she didn’t suffer, in the end. I couldn’t do much for you baby, but I did what I could to help…

FGirl