Re-Entering Society

Doug and I have tried to run errands and leave the house for a little bit each day.  It's just too hard for me to stay holed up inside of the house with so many constant reminders of our loss.  It's also hard for me to be this inactive while I'm recovering.  I feel the need to work out or try to do all of these chores that have been put off for so long but I'm still on restrictions from the doctor for at least 4 more weeks.  And this is killing me too.  I need something to distract me or take my mind off of things or push me physically so I don't think about the emotional pain. 

While watching some random movie that was playing the other day - I believe it was Apollo 13, I mentioned to Doug about the theory of the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon.  And then I commented that it seemed like Tom Hanks had been around long enough as well to have a similar game.  But then I commented to Doug, seemingly out of the blue, that I was reminded of another Tom Hanks movie at that very moment - "Forrest Gump," and one scene in particular - the scene where Jenny runs out into the corn fields and asks Forrest to pray with her "Dear God, please make me a bird so I can fly far, far far away from here."  Unfortunately, this would do me no good.  I cannot outrun the emotions or leave them far enough behind, and even if I could manage to fly away from here, no distance could alleviate my pain.

So now I have to turn my attention to figuring out how to re-enter society.  I've got to start facing my friends and co-workers and everyone else.  I have to join back in.  But how exactly do I do this?  I feel that those who know me will either pretend like nothing has happened and keep the mood light, or will walk on eggshells around me, not knowing what state of mind I may be in or even what to say to me.  And I get that.  I don't know how to interact with others right now nor do others know how to interact with me.  I know that I'll have to be patient because others may unknowingly say something that may upset me without even knowing that they have, and though I know they do so with the right intentions, it will no doubt sting me.  I'm not a very patient person to begin with, but I'm slowly learning how to have more patience while dealing with this unthinkable loss. 

I'll have to watch myself around others and keep myself in check.  No doubt, something in some random conversation or interaction will trigger sadness or anger, and I'll have to figure out a way to handle these sudden emotions.  I suppose I will just be a constant work in progress, getting through one step at a time and dealing with things as they arise.  After all, no one can plan, nor ever would plan, for something like this to happen so protocals for handling it simply don't exist.  We'll all just have to wing it..

But how do I get myself back into reality in the first place?  Occassionally I'll find myself cracking a joke with my husband, and even laughing for a few seconds.  Then, I immediately feel guilty about this.  I shouldn't be laughing, because I certainly don't feel happy.  I also feel guilty when I'm not crying, because I should be crying all the time, because I do feel utter and complete sadness.  I have always been a pretty adventurous, fun-loving person who would be up for trying things and would want to go out and find fun.  Now, I'm not sure how to go about finding excitement or fun.  Nothing really seems to excite me anymore.  I can't even make simple decisions like "where do you want to go on a ride to today?"  or "what do you want to eat?" or "do you want to go see a movie or go some place different today?"  Maybe over time, I'll be able to start slowly being able to at least decide simple things for myself like if I actually want Starbucks or not, or if I want to watch a movie or not.  Maybe I just need to jump headfirst back in to things and just let it happen.  I just can't see the reality in this right now - it's all just too surreal. 

Doug and I went to go spend some time with my Grandmother this afternoon.  I had not seen her in over 8 weeks because I had been on bedrest and shortly before I went into the hospital, she suffered a heart attack and had to have surgery, so I was not allowed to visit with her during the last two months.  My Grandmother is a tough lady, and young at heart for being 85.  She often has given me words of encouragement throughout my life, often in the form of a "Gran letter."  Oftentimes though I tend to find hidden advice in the discussions we have in her apartment just shooting the bull or talking about random things.  She is very special to me, and I love her very much.  I have a lot of her stubborness in me, and I used to tell people that I was "Petie's girl" when they asked me who I belonged to (that's my grandmother's nickname by the way).  So I often listen to what she has to say and learn from her as much as I can.

Today, we talked a little bit about Ellison and what had happened.  She naturally had some questions, and I did not mind sharing the answers with her.  She explained that she could not understand how I felt because neither she nor my Mom has personally experienced this type of loss, and though she wishes she could take it away, she cannot.  I told her that I've found that no one can really understand it unless they've experienced the loss.  But we both agreed that while this is true, others can feel for me and be sad for us and Ellison, and often don't know what to say or what to do.  She then told me a story about her childhood.  My grandmother was the youngest of 13 (with one sibling dying shortly after birth) and grew up in a small town.  When she was a young girl, they had a couple that lived nearby and she would often go over and swing in their yard and talk with them and spend time with them.  Unfortunately the wife passed away, and my Gran didn't know what to do.  Her mother told her that she needed to go over and see the husband, and my Gran replied that she didn't know what to do or say to the man.  Her mother's response was that it was alright, that she didn't need to necessarily say or do anything in particular, that her "presence speaks for itself."  So Gran went over there like she had many times before, and sat down with the man, and just talked about random things.  And I'm sure that made his day and helped that day pass a little bit easier even if my Gran was too young to realize this. 

This really stuck with me.  While my family and friends may not know what to say and so forth, their presence speaks for itself.  Just being around or making me get out of the house for dinner or texting to say their thinking about me or dropping a dinner off or listening to me if I call and need to vent or have a breakdown is enough.  Even though I feel lonely and sad and angry, just the presence of someone who cares helps.  So as I attempt to slowly re-enter the normalcy of society, I'll need this presence probably every day.  Because though I will never get "through" this loss, I'll no doubt one day be able to get "around" it.  As Ringo would say, "I'll get by with a little help from my friends."

-Tomorrow was to have been Ellison's scheduled arrival - I was supposed to be having my c-section on the morning of the 18th.  No doubt the 18th will be a bad day thinking about what was to have been.  So the topic for tomorrow will be "What Should Have Been."