Frankie's birthday is in three days - something we've been preparing ourselves for for a couple of months. Grandpa Casey gave us a potted pine tree a year ago as a way to remember her, and it has grown into three separate plants. I can't imagine how much it will grow once we plant it in the ground! We have decided to put up a string of white lights on the tree on December 2, and we'll take them down December 21, the day she passed away.
My niece, Aulora, had a fantastic idea to buy her an ornament every year for her tree. We're also going to pick a child from the Salvation Army angel tree that is the same age as Francesca would be and buy her Christmas gifts. This year we chose a little girl named Saveen who is one.
We've been cleaning a house we're moving into soon (a rental right now but made an offer on it - short sale - so hopefully it will soon turn into a mortgage!). Frankie hasn't said hi to me for a few months but she did today. While I was sweeping the living room floor I swept across a rainbow about a foot in diameter. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from! I rushed outside to get Adam, and he smiled when he saw it. She stayed there for about 15 minutes. Then she went merrily on her way again. I hope she was giving us a thumbs up about the house.
I cannot believe an entire year has passed. Having her and then losing her was a grief so much different than any other we've experienced. When you and your partner experience something together and at the same level of intensity, it is impossible to support the other person. You are hurting so badly that you have nothing left to give. You know there's nothing you can do or say to make them feel better, so there you both sit, trapped in your own box. You know your partner is right beside you in their own box, but there's nothing you can do to help them. You both just experience watching the other person go through their pain. You experience the grief by yourself. I read several books on grief right after she passed, trying to prepare myself for the suffering to come. Men and women grieve differently, they said. One book even said 9 out of 10 married couples get divorced. I intellectually knew about these challenges and thought we would be better than that, that I would be understanding of how he would grieve, and that he would be understanding of how I would grieve. We were nearly a statistic though, even with having the best intentions.
I went through everything immediately. I had the ability to, I guess, with still being on maternity leave. I would say I "processed" the most intense part of the grief in the first three months. Adam did not. He blocked it out immediately and tried to go on with our life. I was so angry at him because he did not want to talk about her at all. How could he move on so quickly? I found out later that he did this because he felt he had to support me while I was going through my pain. How could he let go when he was afraid of losing me (to insanity and possibly suicide)? He couldn't. In June, after I was back on my feet and had incorporated this tragedy into my life, he finally let go. He was so angry all the time. He still didn't want to talk about her. I wasn't there for him. After going through it for months, I couldn't let the grief back in. It would destroy me and the shaky foundation I had built. I left him out in the cold, alone with his pain.
We hit rock bottom a couple of months ago. Again, I felt like I was in a box right beside him, trapped but wanting to find a way out. We both started seeing therapists, together as well as individually. Very, very slowly we are rebuilding us and our selves. Therapy helped us with the grief, of course, but it also helped us see opportunities for self-improvement. I feel like someone took the two of us and our life together, threw us against a wall, and then left us there in a million pieces. We are becoming better people after all of this. Any other issues you have in a marriage take a backseat when something like this happens. You deal with the immediate issue at hand; if you survive that, then you can work on everything else. We had a good marriage. I can't imagine surviving this in a troubled marriage.
So here we are. I will post pictures of her tree later this week.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Father's Day
We spent Father's Day at Busch Gardens riding rollercoasters, per the request of Adam and Casey. We had a great time. Of course we saw the lovely giraffes among other animals. It's funny, but in the past week we've come across three people named Frank and have heard that Coldplay song about three times as well. She says hi. Things are getting easier.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Mom's Day
Mother's Day came and went. We survived it and are still here! Ha, ha. I didn't think about it much really aside from getting my own mom something. Then a received one phone call, then another, then a hug from someone, a note. People remembered us, her, me, and wished me a good day. That was so very nice of them. I didn't expect it, but it was very nice to receive. The waves of love that surround us still amaze me.
I can't speak for Adam because I am not him, and he's going through this on his own. He has finally stopped pretending nothing is wrong and that he's fine. Thank goodness. For a while I thought there was something wrong with me (or him) because I felt I had too many emotions while he didn't have what I thought was enough. The past few days were similar to scraping an old scab off a cut. I had finally got back into the swing of things and had a routine going again. Routines are nice when you don't want to think! But the last few days were hard. I cried a lot. I talked to her. She didn't give me any signs though which surprised me. But that's okay. I think she likes to catch me off guard when I'm not expecting a hello. :-D A sign on Mother's Day would be so typical, Mom!
It's surprising how angry both of us are. We are just so angry at the world, at God (if He exists), at people with healthy babies and children. I know it's horrible to say that, but I want to capture my true feelings and thoughts right now, not just what I think is right. Adam and I confided in one another that there are brief moments when we want everyone to feel the same pain we have/are feeling. I bet a lot of people feel that way about their experiences. And who can blame them? There's a selfish part of you that says, "Why me?" Adam seems to think the world is about balance, and everyone's life is composed of perfect balance in good and bad ways. I don't think that's true, but I really don't have anything to compare it to. Who am I to say that Paris Hilton's life, for example, is really as glamorous and fantastic as it seems? But yet I doubt that she will experience the depth of pain I have. Maybe I am wrong. This idea then rationalizes that we had something "bad" happen in our lives because we had so much "good" before it. Whatever.
I used to think there was a reason for everything. Not anymore. I think the world is fantastically random. This has radically changed how I view the world, my place in it, and how I want to live the rest of my life. I fully realize I am going to die, and I have no idea when or how. So I live each day now almost assuming I won't live to be 40 or even perhaps make it to next week. Therefore if I want to do something, I do it. What the hell is retirement for if you never make it?!?
I can't speak for Adam because I am not him, and he's going through this on his own. He has finally stopped pretending nothing is wrong and that he's fine. Thank goodness. For a while I thought there was something wrong with me (or him) because I felt I had too many emotions while he didn't have what I thought was enough. The past few days were similar to scraping an old scab off a cut. I had finally got back into the swing of things and had a routine going again. Routines are nice when you don't want to think! But the last few days were hard. I cried a lot. I talked to her. She didn't give me any signs though which surprised me. But that's okay. I think she likes to catch me off guard when I'm not expecting a hello. :-D A sign on Mother's Day would be so typical, Mom!
It's surprising how angry both of us are. We are just so angry at the world, at God (if He exists), at people with healthy babies and children. I know it's horrible to say that, but I want to capture my true feelings and thoughts right now, not just what I think is right. Adam and I confided in one another that there are brief moments when we want everyone to feel the same pain we have/are feeling. I bet a lot of people feel that way about their experiences. And who can blame them? There's a selfish part of you that says, "Why me?" Adam seems to think the world is about balance, and everyone's life is composed of perfect balance in good and bad ways. I don't think that's true, but I really don't have anything to compare it to. Who am I to say that Paris Hilton's life, for example, is really as glamorous and fantastic as it seems? But yet I doubt that she will experience the depth of pain I have. Maybe I am wrong. This idea then rationalizes that we had something "bad" happen in our lives because we had so much "good" before it. Whatever.
I used to think there was a reason for everything. Not anymore. I think the world is fantastically random. This has radically changed how I view the world, my place in it, and how I want to live the rest of my life. I fully realize I am going to die, and I have no idea when or how. So I live each day now almost assuming I won't live to be 40 or even perhaps make it to next week. Therefore if I want to do something, I do it. What the hell is retirement for if you never make it?!?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Hello again
She said to me again - twice in one afternoon in the span of about 30 minutes. It was pretty neat. If I haven't already mentioned what things are "her," they're typically giraffes, sometimes rainbows (We have them all over the place here in St Pete due to our diverse population - lol, so it's only once in a while; it has to be a special rainbow), and hearing the song "Livin La Vida" by Coldplay. Anyway, she said hi twice one day about a week ago.
I met a client in my office, and she asked how many kids I had and how old they were (I have a couple of pictures of Frankie on my desk). I told her, which caught me off guard a bit as I usually don't meet clients in my office and try to avoid that question as much as possible. So my client left, and I sat at my computer for a few minutes. It was a very sunny, warm day. It hadn't rained at all that day, and there weren't many clouds in the sky. My office is on the 16th floor. I looked out the window, and about 30 feet away from the building was a wispy cloud about 100 yards long. A rainbow stretched across it, perfectly straight and parallel to the ground. It had no curves like a regular rainbow would. I immediately thought of her and smiled. I sat mesmerized for about 30 seconds until it disappeared.
About ten minutes later I left my office and walked to the post office. As I came back I walked past a familiar cafe with seats outside. I walk past this cafe a few times a week, so I know what everything looks like. I happened to look directly at a napkin holder on a table, and on it were black giraffe silhouettes against a gray background. I had never seen this napkin holder before. Again, I smiled.
Some people probably think these things are coincidences, but I don't. Even if they are, they make me feel better. And that's all that counts.
I met a client in my office, and she asked how many kids I had and how old they were (I have a couple of pictures of Frankie on my desk). I told her, which caught me off guard a bit as I usually don't meet clients in my office and try to avoid that question as much as possible. So my client left, and I sat at my computer for a few minutes. It was a very sunny, warm day. It hadn't rained at all that day, and there weren't many clouds in the sky. My office is on the 16th floor. I looked out the window, and about 30 feet away from the building was a wispy cloud about 100 yards long. A rainbow stretched across it, perfectly straight and parallel to the ground. It had no curves like a regular rainbow would. I immediately thought of her and smiled. I sat mesmerized for about 30 seconds until it disappeared.
About ten minutes later I left my office and walked to the post office. As I came back I walked past a familiar cafe with seats outside. I walk past this cafe a few times a week, so I know what everything looks like. I happened to look directly at a napkin holder on a table, and on it were black giraffe silhouettes against a gray background. I had never seen this napkin holder before. Again, I smiled.
Some people probably think these things are coincidences, but I don't. Even if they are, they make me feel better. And that's all that counts.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Now
Adam and I have continued blogging, but we've decided to keep many of the posts unpublished for now. We've been up and down lately because we were approaching her due date of March 27. That was three days ago. We took off for a few days and went to Key West because we needed to get away. We didn't want to be at work that day. I doubt we would have gotten much done. We had a great time and enjoyed being away from home.
I don't think we ever imagined so many people would be interested in reading this blog, but that's a good thing. But that's also why we've shied away from publishing so much. We will one day but not on a blog...maybe in a book or something. Much of how we feel is directed at some of our family and friends because of things going on in their lives right now (namely other babies being born!), and we don't want to take away from anyone's happiness or create resentment. So some things we will keep to ourselves for now. :-)
Please know that we gained so much strength from all of you and your support of this blog. We thoroughly enjoyed every comment, prayer, and well-wish. I don't think we'd feel as good as we do now without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I used to think everything happens for a reason, but now I'm not so sure. What could possibly be a reason good enough for a child to die? I really can't think of any. But I don't think we understand the complexities of the universe and God either. We're not supposed to know until we die. At some point you have to let things go so you can get on with your life, otherwise you will go crazy. And I did ask myself that at some point (several times). Do I stay in this low place for the rest of my life and be miserable (I could live for a very long time after this), or do I try to find just one thing every day to look forward to? One way out is killing yourself, and that's certainly a valid choice. Many times I could not fathom ever feeling any better than I did. I couldn't imagine living without her, even though she hadn't been in our lives for very long. But I denounced killing myself for a couple of reasons. One, I didn't want my parents to feel the same way I did ( a horrible, horrible place), and two, I think we're supposed to endure certain things in our lives. If we don't endure the hurdles and take the easy way out (killing yourself), then we'll probably have to go through the same hurdle again in another life. And I don't want to do that either. So the only choice I had was to get up every day and trudge forward, even when I didn't want to, when even getting up to take a shower was a huge accomplishment. The fact that I've been back at work for about ten weeks now and haven't had a huge setback (depression that knocks me down for several days) is a huge accomplishment.
She said hi to us again when we were in Key West. We happened to sit down next to a lady named Francesca. That's not a very common name, especially for anyone under the age of 70! We just smiled and told the lady what a beautiful name she had.
I could really use some help from you all though, and if you don't feel comfortable commenting on this site feel free to email me directly at thesunshinegirl78@yahoo.com. Because I'm searching for meaning in all of this, it would help me to know if reading about Francesca, cheering for her, and following her life for a few weeks helped you or changed you in any way. That would really make me feel good. Thank you so much.
I don't think we ever imagined so many people would be interested in reading this blog, but that's a good thing. But that's also why we've shied away from publishing so much. We will one day but not on a blog...maybe in a book or something. Much of how we feel is directed at some of our family and friends because of things going on in their lives right now (namely other babies being born!), and we don't want to take away from anyone's happiness or create resentment. So some things we will keep to ourselves for now. :-)
Please know that we gained so much strength from all of you and your support of this blog. We thoroughly enjoyed every comment, prayer, and well-wish. I don't think we'd feel as good as we do now without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I used to think everything happens for a reason, but now I'm not so sure. What could possibly be a reason good enough for a child to die? I really can't think of any. But I don't think we understand the complexities of the universe and God either. We're not supposed to know until we die. At some point you have to let things go so you can get on with your life, otherwise you will go crazy. And I did ask myself that at some point (several times). Do I stay in this low place for the rest of my life and be miserable (I could live for a very long time after this), or do I try to find just one thing every day to look forward to? One way out is killing yourself, and that's certainly a valid choice. Many times I could not fathom ever feeling any better than I did. I couldn't imagine living without her, even though she hadn't been in our lives for very long. But I denounced killing myself for a couple of reasons. One, I didn't want my parents to feel the same way I did ( a horrible, horrible place), and two, I think we're supposed to endure certain things in our lives. If we don't endure the hurdles and take the easy way out (killing yourself), then we'll probably have to go through the same hurdle again in another life. And I don't want to do that either. So the only choice I had was to get up every day and trudge forward, even when I didn't want to, when even getting up to take a shower was a huge accomplishment. The fact that I've been back at work for about ten weeks now and haven't had a huge setback (depression that knocks me down for several days) is a huge accomplishment.
She said hi to us again when we were in Key West. We happened to sit down next to a lady named Francesca. That's not a very common name, especially for anyone under the age of 70! We just smiled and told the lady what a beautiful name she had.
I could really use some help from you all though, and if you don't feel comfortable commenting on this site feel free to email me directly at thesunshinegirl78@yahoo.com. Because I'm searching for meaning in all of this, it would help me to know if reading about Francesca, cheering for her, and following her life for a few weeks helped you or changed you in any way. That would really make me feel good. Thank you so much.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Mostly up and then down
We had been doing quite well until a week ago. I'm not sure what happened or what caused it. I've been going to work, getting along fine, and yes, I cry sometimes in my car or when my door is closed. But I hadn't really lost it until last Thursday. I still have some thank-you notes to write, so I decided to write a few. That brings up so many difficult memories and feelings (SO trying to suppress them, get over them). Writing the thank you notes led to looking at a few cards, and that led me to looking at some of her pictures again. I cried for about 2 hours. I've cried several times the couple of days pretty intensely as well. Adam broke down too a couple of days ago because he spoke to a friend he hadn't talked to in months, and they didn't know what happened. Having to tell the story again makes us relive it. I look around our little apartment sometimes and get depressed because it's not where I expected us to be right now. I'd still be pregnant, and we'd be in at least a two-bedroom, not a studio. We'd have baby things around, and we'd be looking forward to her birth. I'd be winding things down at work preparing to be off for a few weeks. Instead I'm working diligently trying to get my sales pipeline going again. We were planning on buying a house; now we're going to stay here for a while and pay off our student loans. That's not a bad idea....it's a very good idea. But it's not where I expected to be. I kiss her little silver box every morning and say, "Good morning, Sweetheart. I love you!" I hope she can hear me or feel me. We miss her so much and are very much looking forward to seeing her again.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Work has been a good release for me. I'm seeing bits and pieces of my old self. What is really tough though is when people ask how my maternity leave went. Sometimes I get lucky and they simply ask what we had. And I say we had a beautiful baby girl named Francesca. Today though when I told one client that I was back from maternity leave, he asked how everything went. Those exact words. What do I say to that? It was hard to avoid it. So I just told him, briefly, in as few words as I could. And then I had to choke back my tears, pause, and gather myself before I could continue talking. I'm sure people understand. But it hits me at unusual times when I least expect it. It's like getting side-swiped, but I still have to get up because I'm at work. Other than that though, work has been very, very good. I like what I do.
A couple of support groups meet at the beginning of the month, so I'm looking forward to going to one or two of those. We'll see. I'll at least try, and if I don't like it I don't have to continue. I've found quite a bit of support from an online group called Inspire Preemies as well as from a couple of people at work. It's amazing how many people have experienced the same thing, but you'd never know it. I guess you don't talk about it unless someone asks you directly. It helps sometimes when I imagine her watching over us.
A couple of support groups meet at the beginning of the month, so I'm looking forward to going to one or two of those. We'll see. I'll at least try, and if I don't like it I don't have to continue. I've found quite a bit of support from an online group called Inspire Preemies as well as from a couple of people at work. It's amazing how many people have experienced the same thing, but you'd never know it. I guess you don't talk about it unless someone asks you directly. It helps sometimes when I imagine her watching over us.
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