Being tired and wearing hats.

Sometimes, even the things which seem to be ‘easy’, take so much from you that you’re left barely awake.  Perhaps it’s because I woke up at 5.40 this morning, or perhaps it’s because I’ve been doing different things recently, but I’m very, very tired again.

Friday was actually a lovely day overall.  We went to the grave and placed some flowers, and now that I know that the ground has settled we can go back and plant the bulbs and seeds I have.

At first I was confused, as I was looking for the end plot, but then I realised that four more babies had been buried since we buried Freddie, and that made me feel even more sad.   If you don’t know, in the grave yard there is a separate plot for small babies – most of whom are stillborn.  So it added to the sadness to imagine the four other babies who had died in the last 3-4 months, and their families who had buried them.

It poured with rain, and as we stood in a stooped embrace, the rain pelted the back of my legs, and I remembered vividly the day we buried Freddie; it seemed as if the rain would never stop, and as if it were as angry as we were, as it snapped at our skin and soaked interminably through our clothes.

Later that day, we saw a whole rainbow, which neither of us had ever seen before.  We’re not in the least bit religious, but there was something about that broad, dazzling bow of colour which moved us both a little, and made us smile.

I’ve done a couple of days back at school, which has actually been really nice, as I’ve mostly been sorting and chatting to people; the teaching comes next week.  It was nice to see colleagues and what surprised me most was that so few people wore the face that I expected to see; I expected to see faces full of pity and concern and whilst some people expressed those things briefly, the majority of people just seemed genuinely happy to see me back with them.  Which was nice.

When I talk to other people who don’t know what I’ve been through though, I have a voice in my head which is completely different to the normal one that comes out of my mouth.  It says things like, ‘you have no idea what I’ve been through’, and ‘I had a baby boy 3 and a half months ago (or however long ago it was when said conversation takes place), well, I had a stillborn baby’, or ‘I’m actually feeling really awful right now, because of the baby boy that I lost’ and ‘I don’t really care what you’re talking about’.  It’s so confusing because at the same time as I don’t want people to look at me with pity, I want people to know what I’m going through and I want them to acknowledge it.

It’s probably clear by now that me being really tired does not help my writing – I can’t seem to focus on one thought long enough to write about it so I end up with lots of paragraphs about different things…

Grief makes the littlest things more difficult to deal with.  Things that before I would have thought nothing of, now send me to the floor.  I get my head around something and then it changes and I find myself obsessing about it. I’m so conscious of not getting stressed out about things, like I did last time, and I’m so concerned with looking after myself, that I’m probably causing myself more stress than if I just got on with things – I’m causing myself stress by worrying about getting stressed…

I think that when the time comes, I’ll manage to put my work hat on and keep it there.  I just hope that I can find my ‘being at home/wife’ hat when I need to as well, and that it isn’t lost through the effort of keeping the other hat on.

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5 Responses to Being tired and wearing hats.

  1. Angela says:

    Having you back at work is wonderful my lovely 🙂 When I walked into the work room last week and saw you sat where you always sit, it all felt ‘right’ again. I have missed you so much, despite seeing you and keeping in touch over the last few months. I’m so glad you had two good days and i’m so pleased that people both acknowledged your tragis loss, embraced you, but then smiled and chatted away as they always did.
    I think people have such a deeper understanding of what you have been through and are still going through, partly through reading your blogs, but partly from realising that avoiding the issue when you lost your little girl did nothing to help you, but lead instead to you feeling more angry and isolated inside. No one ever wants to make you feel that way again. No, it wasn’t deliberate, but perhaps came from simply not knowing what to say. Now they understand that if they don’t know what to say, then all they need do is say exactly that! It then at least acknowledges your loss and pain and reassures you that people do care so very much.
    You can be assured that we will support you in any way we can and will always remember Freddie and never again shy away from acknowledging him, just because we don’t know what to say.
    I love you masses my lovely and will forever be in awe at your inner strength!

    All my love

    Ange xxxxxxxxxxxxx

    • Abbie says:

      Angela, your thorough and heartfelt response (as always) makes me want to cry and grin all at once 🙂 It helps so much to know that you and Jo in particular are there for me, and today just proved that. You’re a very good friend and a really wonderful person, and I’m lucky to have you. I’m looking forward to seeing you 5 days a week again and I know that when I’m struggling you’ll be there – “Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.” (Tennessee Williams) Love you lots xxxxxxxxxx

  2. Kyrsty says:

    Hi Abbie

    I saw you one of the days you popped into work and tried getting your attention at lunch time, but you were busy chatting away. I just wanted to let you know how good it was to see you and how great you looked (despite what you think in your blogs!) I think the angry feeling you have sometimes is a perfectly normal part of grieving. I still get so angry that my cat got killed at 11 months old last year and taken from me, so in your position I would be in a permanent rage! I think you appear to be coping well and I often find myself thinking about your babies, wishing they were here for you!! I keep my fingers crossed for you, for the near future. Take Care Abbie xoxoxxx

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