I attended my first infant loss group last night. I have to say that I took a lot away from it, in a good way. I've known since I lost Ellison that I have not been alone in my particular loss - other people have shared with me about their own losses. People that I had been around my entire life or for part of my life - people that I never knew had lost a baby - began sharing their stories with me through emails, texts, and messages. And then, I met several complete strangers last night that shared their stories with me, just as I shared Ellison's. It took that handful of people that I had never met before to finally help me feel that I was not alone. I mean, I know I'm not alone - I have my husband, and wonderful friends and family members that have helped me every day since Ellison passed - but I feel alone. It's a weird concept to try to explain. And last night, I finally felt that I was not alone. These strangers, now no longer strangers to me but rather people that I feel I can connect with, made me feel like my "new normal."
I have not been able to actually carry on a conversation in person with a friend, outside of family, about what happened to Ellison. I've been able to talk to a few close friends over the phone about it some, but it's easier to choke back tears over the phone than it is in person. So last night as I introduced myself to these other mothers who have lost a child, I of course started crying. I pretty much cried every time I talked. But it was OK, because they all did too at various times, and though I was apprehensive about crying in front of others, it was good to face that fear and get through it. Their stories were all pretty similar to mine, and hearing theirs made my heart break for them because I knew of their pain. Many of the thoughts and emotions were very similar. I wasn't the only one who struggles with guilt. And many of them actually brought up points that I had not considered - I actually learned strategies for coping from them all. It was good to understand their points of view and their grief processes.
Several topics of discussion hit home with me. I talked about my fears of the future - others forgetting that Ellison ever existed, my fears of handling the possibility of another pregnancy down the road, my fears of how I'll react to others in various life situations, etc. It turns out I'm not the only one with these types of fears. The point was brought up that when you lose a parent/family member/friend/etc., you are losing your past; but when you lose a child, you lose your future. In other words, your future becomes like a black hole. You know it exists, but you have no idea what's in it. You're afraid to get sucked in because you have no idea if it will be tiny and claustrophobic, or if it will be infinite. It's such a scary concept to try to wrap your mind around - like what a black hole really is. Not sure if that makes any sense, but it's how I view it. So it's no wonder that we all have felt hopeless and apprehensive about the future - a big part of it was taken from us, so we're all trying to figure out how to make a new future, or just survive it, in the meantime.
Various other topics were brought up and discussed and it seemed like we all had similar thoughts/emotions but just expressed them differently. And though I cried pretty much most of the time, it was finally a good cry - because I didn't feel so alone amidst others. My Mom went with me, and I think she also felt a sense of this too. Even though she was the only grandmother at this particular meeting, she wasn't the only family member who came, and that helped her to express her viewpoints to the group. After the meeting, I was talking with one attendee about how others act around us now. Some friends, work colleagues, etc. have just begun ignoring us because they don't know what to do I'm sure, some have just walked on eggshells around us, some have been really good and included us/invited us out to do things to help us return to normalcy, and many have said they simply don't know what to say or do but at least they say something even if it may be wrong. We both agreed we'd rather you just say something - like "thinking about you" - than nothing. We don't necessarily want to talk about it or keep re-living the emotions of it, we just want you to be our friend like you were before. Just because something in our life has changed, doesn't mean everything has to change. We still need to feel like we belong, more now than ever.
One of the last conversations I had with an attendee stuck out in my mind. They mentioned that we are all now members of a club/group that nobody wants to be in. I thought more about that the rest of the night. Nobody chooses to be in a situation that pushes them into an infant loss group. But at least there is a club that exists to help us feel like we're not the only loners. We have now been thrown into this black hole against our wills but at least this club forces us to realize that we are not alone. That in and of itself, makes attending worthwhile for me - I not only learn more about myself, but I learn about others, and both of those can teach me something new. I believe it was Mark Twain who said "I never let schooling interfere with my education." I've learned more about myself and life through this journey than I ever did in my many years of school and job training, and so my education will continue. Thomas Jefferson would be proud...I passed through my 4th year (i.e. senior year and graduated) of education in 2004, and now I'm still learning more things in my 14th year. Too bad I'm having to learn the hardest way possible.
I'll close with a song I happened to hear yesterday. I often listen to a music station on my Ipad/Iphone when I'm checking emails/working on a puzzle/writing my posts. Keep your judgments to yourself, but it's an all Acapella station ("Acca-believe it" - if you get that, kudos to you). I have a certain trio of brothers to thank for my appreciation of acapella music, but I do enjoy these talented groups (especially since I can't sing a lick), and I'm glad my musical tastes are well-rounded (from Johnny Cash to acapella to rap...I'll take it!). I digress. An acapella version of a MUSE song came on - "Starlight," and it perfectly sums up this post. The last three verses go like this:
"And I'll never let you go
If you promise not to fade away
Never fade away
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Hold you in my arms
I just wanted to hold
You in my arms
I just wanted to hold"
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