Tuesday, April 26, 2011

What if God shows up?

A co-worker lost their premature daughter a few weeks ago.

Baby girl was making it one day to the next.  Each day a requirement was set and she met it:  she will do this, or it will be the end.  She left her family after a three week fight.

I told anyone who would listen: don't send flowers, flowers die.

What comes next for them.  They went to the support group.  It turns out they were the freak show of the group, just like I was once upon a time.  The story that everyone secretly gives thanks that at least they are not YOU.  He hated group and I hated group too.  I walked out on the second session and never went back.

I remember so many daffodils.  I hated daffodils.  She came and she went April 23 in 2007, four years ago.  I hate your fucking daffodils.

Anger comes throughout.  He told me he couldn't finish his son's prayers last week.  What does he have to say to God?  How can he reconcile the anger with the simple good night prayers of his toddler?

I delivered Mannie after she had been gone for almost a day.  The doctors were deliberate to occupy my full attention before I met her.  I needed to be prepared, they told me.  Her head shape was unique.  Her skin was delicate.  Her coloring was different.  This was going to be difficult and I needed to stop and prepare.

She looked beautiful to me.  She had a full, wide mouth which I am certain is a distinct sign of beauty.  We spent our time with her.  My story, still sitting in my heart.

Time passed and I lost a lot of blood.  Perception is everything, but it sure seemed like I was going to die.  Doctors were running in the hallway.  My mother came back into the room when she saw our doctor and others charging into my delivery suite.

The head of maternal fetal medicine was brought in.  Again, taking my full attention.  Look at me.  I need you to listen to me.  We need to operate.  I need your permission.  The placenta has not passed and you have lost a lot of blood.  You are still losing blood.  We need to do this now.  There is no alternative.

I told him I knew what this was about.  This is the surgery that can damage your uterus and prevent you from having children in the future.  Go ahead, doctor.  The future belongs to someone else.  I have nothing to lose.

This is when my fight broke out.




Really, God.  This is it?

You are going to kill me now?  That is your plan?

I dare you.  I fucking dare you.



I lived.  Anger faded and quietly turned to distance.  I didn't have time for God in my life, but frankly never noticed.  I was too busy trying to survive all on my own.

I asked the support group leader why she managed such a grim group.  How could she bear the weight of all these destroyed lives.  She said she did it because people get better.

I told my co-worker this, that somehow, some way, it manages to get better.  I don't know how or when, but it does get better.  One day, I stopped wishing for death.  Some time later, I was feeling the edge of happiness.  And so it went.

He tells me he understands this.  It makes me sad to see him waste his time with the anger and separation from God.  I am only learning how to tinker with rebuilding it myself, but it has pulled me through a lot this last cycle.  It doesn't feel like riding a bike, but it is getting better.

30 comments:

  1. yes. it does, but not before you slither through hell on your belly for a while.

    thank you for sharing.
    love to you, Mannie's mama.
    xoxo
    lis

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  2. Such a powerful post. I will keep you and your co-worker in my prayers. With time it does get better...thank God for healing...

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  3. Wow I had no idea what went through. Your postbread like it was yesterday. You are a strong woman who I admire. Thank you for letting me in this personal space of yours.

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  4. Roccie,
    I am thankful that you shared your story. You are an inspiration. Such strength. We are all lucky to know you.

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  5. Thank you for sharing such intimate details of your story, this was an incredibly powerful, beautiful post. It's so true those feelings are steps in the process of immense grief. I remember feeling those same emotions, the anger and not understanding how to reconcile those feelings. You described it perfectly. Thinking of your co-worker during this impossibly difficult time in his life. Love to you my friend ((hugs))

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  6. I am tearing up at your story. It is amazing the hell we have all been through. I wonder where god is all the time. How the hell could any of this possibly happen. I am so glad you and your coworker have each other yet feel so sad and angry that anyone has to go through this at all.
    Thinking of you both....

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  7. Wow. Wow. I knew you were strong, but this is strength no one should have to find. I feel that while we can't always get the answers we want right away, Grace is always there, even if you have to stumble on your way back. Thanks for sharing your story, which is one I will tuck away for when I need some courage in my own fight ahead. Although it in no way can take anything from what happened in your past, I am so glad that happiness is ahead for you.

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  8. Darling, my heart is with your coworker and I cannot imagine what you have been through. It's all unfair at all levels. Unbearable in that moment and for all of the forseeable future. I know that defiant stance and the "do you worst" and I love you that much more for sharing. It's un-fucking fair and god has little to do with it. No one deserves this and my prayers are with them and those around them to find solace in whatever place it arrives.

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  9. Oh babes. Many tears being shed here. You know what? There are those who try to reach out who just don't understand. But once in a while there's a hand that reaches for yours in the darkness. Someone who knows. Who doesn't blow sunshine up your wazoo but just knows. Those hands are golden.

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  10. Oh, Roccie. I am in tears here. Such a heartbreaking but powerful post. I am so sorry for the loss of your beautiful daughter. I am so sorry for the loss of your coworker's baby. I just want to reach through the screen and give you a big hug.

    I have had one of those moments of daring God. My guilt is that I felt like he took me up on the dare and things got even worse. I am still angry though...still not sure if I want to believe even after all this time. It isn't a pleasant place to be. It make me happy to know that you are pushing past those emotions. Maybe I'll be able to too some day.

    Much love to you...

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  11. Thank you for sharing your story. I am so sorry for the loss of your precious daughter.

    I can relate to your feelings as I have walked in your shoes. No mother should have to deliver a baby that is no longer alive. They should have lived. We should hold them in our arms instead of only in our hearts.

    I can imagine how your co-workers loss has brought it all back for you.

    Hugs to you.

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  12. Roccie thanks for sharing your painful story of the birth and death of your daughter Mannie. I am certain your coworker finds the most comfort from your support above all else. I am not so sure I could be a strong as you to have gone through all u have since Mannie's passing. Hugs.

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  13. Wow. Thank you, Roc. What a powerful and incredibly well written post. You have been through so much yet stand as a light in the storm for other who have suffered in this way. xo

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  14. Sweetheart, I didn't realize we had just passed the day Mannie was born. I wish I had known. I would have reached out with special hugs and love on Saturday. Whether you say it or not, I hope you can hear it: I love you so much. I hate that you had to go through such pain and scariness, but I know that the experience helped to make you the amazing woman you are. So, so sorry for your colleague's loss and for yours.

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  15. Your co-worker is fortunate to have you to talk to. Heartbreaking anniversary on Saturday; I am so sorry for your loss.

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  16. I'm so so sorry that this is your story. I was thinking of you this weekend unknowingling and would have sent you some extra love if I'd known. these anniversaries are hard, but a friend of mine who jsut passed the 7th anniversary of her son's stillbirth said that for the first time she felt peace.
    Know that we're here, loving you and holding you and loving that baby growing within you and the one that left too early.
    <3

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  17. I'm so sorry. For you, for your co-worker, for everyone that has to go through this. So sorry.

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  18. I've never understood how people can survive this, and I know I never can unless I experience it for myself. (And if you don't mind, I'll pass on that one.) It seems like the whole world would turn pitch black. I so wish you had not been asked to go through it, and I'm so deeply sorry that your colleague is in the midst of it now. And like the others, I thank you for sharing your story. I know it will help many people.

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  19. I've been wanting to tell a friend: I hope you never need to draw upon my wealth of knowledge about TTC.
    The same goes here, it hurts to see someone go through the same.

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  20. I didn't know your story. I am so sorry. Thank you for sharing, and for encouraging us all that hope exists.

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  21. Like most, I didn't know either. Thank you for opening up to us. We are all here to listen and be there for you. Sending prayers to you and your colleague. I have learnt that bad things happen to good people. There is no discrimination here. Your colleague is lucky to have you. Someone that actually understands.

    Big hugs xo
    Tee

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  22. i didn't know your full story either. thank you so much for sharing.. it will help me and others in dark times. there is still hope... for all of us. (Tippy)

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  23. Agree so much with what has already been commented here. This was a powerful, beautifully written post. Thank you for opening up this past deep hurt, something that you mentioned before but held back under “dark ages” before now. I have to think why are you sharing it now? The obvious is the loss of your co-worker’s daughter, and the timing with your dear Mannie’s delivery date.
    The less obvious I think, or at least I didn’t get it the first few times I read your post, “It makes me sad to see him waste his time with the anger and separation from God.”
    That touched me as much as imagining your heartbreak and honest anger, knowing how much you love children, and while you are just experiencing the loss of your first born, there is the real risk that the surgery was going to jeopardize the chance to have another.
    I definitely identify with fear when someone experiences profound grief that their faith will be shaken, but you said it more perfectly—separation from God. That is the sadder part.
    I am deeply grateful that your relationship with God is on the way back and has helped you in this past cycle. I thank God for the healing this shows in you and the further healing shown in your sharing your pain to help others heal. How could anyone read what you write, what you have lived through and not love you and be pulling for you every step of the way?

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  24. My heart aches to read this. For so many reasons. Your pain, still palpable. Your anger, still hanging there. Joy does not preclude the presence of pain.

    I love you. I too wish I had known the date. Know that Mannie will always be in my heart and prayers. Thank you for sharing this with all of us. I'm so grateful your colleague has you there to lean on.

    <3

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  25. I had no idea what you've been through Roccie. You've been through hell and back and I'm so sorry you had to go through that. It's sad how someone else's loss can make your memory of your own loss so fresh and raw. It's as though the wound can never heal.

    (hugs)

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  26. Oh, Roccie, what you've been through...it's courageous of you to share it here, and so generous of you to reach out to your coworker. Thank you for sharing a little bit of Mannie's story; we love you here in blogland and want to support you as best we can. ((((()))))

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  27. I am so sorry for you and for your coworker. I cannot begin to imagine the loss, but I hold both babies and families in my heart.

    xoxo

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  28. I honour you, dear woman, for all that you are and have survived. Thank you for entrusting us with this part of your story. I feel privileged to read it and to feel the agony of it. And to watch as you heal.

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  29. Roccie, you are so generous in sharing this with us and with your coworker. I am so sorry that you have been through so much and in awe of your ability to find your way through. You are an amazing woman and I am so glad to know you.
    Love,
    Maddy

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  30. Oh Roccie, how did I miss this post. Thank you for sharing. I am so sorry that you went through that. I am thankful you are ok and NOT dead. I am also thankful you are pregnant again. I imagine you are a wonderful friend and can really help your co-workers. I am so sorry for them.

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