8 months on I still hate going outside

[sosks]

My first child was still born just over 8 months ago now, and whilst in many ways I've come to terms with it, I still hate going out.

Prams, bumps, everywhere and always right in my face.

I can't stop myself getting stressed and angry and it always seems the more upset I am, the more I see. My own mum said this is in my head but on the days I'm coping well I've actually decided to look, and nobody is there. But god forbid I feel a drop of sadness, because all of my city's expectant and new parents will be out in force.

Then there's the news articles that are absolutely everywhere too. Who the fuck decided Kylie Jenner was more fit to be a mother than I am?

I'm so upset and angry with the more I see and the endless royal birth coverage that I can see from my desk at work really isn't helping.

I left my partner a few months ago too as he'd become increasingly and horrifically emotionally abusive, stole from me and had gambling and drug addictions.

I think it's only gotten worse since then, my chances of a 'rainbow' are so far in the future that it's not even funny.

I know rationally I wouldn't have wanted another child with him, but it should be me. I should be that pregnant lady, I should be that lady with the pram. Who the fuck thought that I deserved this?

I'm so sorry for your loss. 

Would you like to tell us more about your baby? What was his / her name?

It can be so hard seeing bumps and babies everywhere after a loss. It just feels like everyone else is in the situation you would give anything to be in.

Thank you. His name was Henry. He passed away because of a rare genetic disorder. Thankfully it's very unlikely to happen again as it was inherited as a combination of something from me and something from my ex. It still hurts a lot though.

My co-worker was pregnant at the same time and she didn't even fucking want kids. She's due back from maternity leave in 2 months. I would have been returning this month, telling everyone all about my son. Instead I've been back since October, lost everything I had, been emotionally battered and abused and nobody wants to talk about my son. It's just not right.

Henry is a lovely name.

Have you considered counselling? It sounds like you could really do with someone who will listen and allow you to properly talk things through.

Thanks, he was just as lovely as his name!

I've had a lot of counselling, throughout and after my pregnancy. It's helped but it can't fix what's happened so there's always going to be a bit of a block there.

I don't think I can really get past this anger until I have a living child, no amount of counselling or reassurance has made a dent in this feeling. I accept my son isn't and couldn't be here, but there's a massive hole where I should still be a mother.

I am so, so sorry I hear about Henry.

8 months is really no time at all; you are grieving & there is no right or wrong time to deal with such a huge loss.

It's OK to be angry; it's OK to feel fury at the complete unfairness of it all. What I am trying to say I that it is absolutely OK that you don't feel OK. It WILL come.

I think part of coming to terms with the loss of your baby is finding away of living with the pain by accepting it. You are under no obligation to get over it or move on...or anything right now.You have also experienced the end of a relationship & what you thought your life will be. These are huge life experiences. Who said, "we'll, come on, let's pretend it didn't happen!"

Be kind to yourself. Give yourself time & do what feels right for now. Have you considered talking to the charity Tommy's?
You will be able to talk to people who understand.

It will get better, these feelings will change over time. It won't be like this forever.
Whilst you work through all this, look after yourself. Your 'happy ever after' is coming, OP. Just hold on

Henry is a gorgeous name, I bet he was absolutely beautiful. What did he weigh?

I'm truly so sorry for your loss, and from a personal level I totally understand your anger too. It's all horrific and eats you up inside.

It is SO bloody unfair that you don't have your beautiful baby Henry with you, and I'm so sorry xx

@tinysleepy Most people tend to act like it never happened! They might not say it, but I feel a lot of pressure to behave a certain way because everyone else would rather ignore that my son died. I've had a lot of counselling but I think this grief of not having any child at all isn't something I can be counselled out of. I really believe I'm not going to stop hurting about it until I do have a living child of my own. Otherwise, no matter how much I reason with myself, the situation will still stand. I won't have a child and that will always hurt.

@Discoveringpluto Thank you. He was just 5lbs. Bigger than they had anticipated but still a small baby. His small size was part of the genetic condition he had. I know realistically he couldn't have been here, but I don't understand why it had to happen at all, why was it Henry that had to have an extremely rare genetic disorder? My first and only child.

I both long for and am terrified of another pregnancy. I won't be able to give birth vaginally, I get panicked only thinking about it. It brings back a lot of horrible memories.

I am pleased to see your post; I've been checking in daily!

Your pain comes across so clearly in your post. It's really positive that you can pin point & articulate how the loss of Henry feels.

I didn't mean 'it will get better' in a throwaway, forget about it, sort of way.
Rather, you will find a relationship where you can heal & the raw pain will lessen over time.
I understand that sickening desperation to have a child.

My stillborn daughter was born much earlier in my pregnancy that your loss of Henry; I went on to have a little boy years later. I named my daughter Hope, because in the end, that's all we have.
The hope that the pain will give us a break, the hope for a nurturing relationship which will, hopefully, bring a child that is surrounded by love.

You perhaps feel that you are at the end of the road with counselling; but I'd encourage you to think again. The focus of your counselling might be different 8 months on.

I'd be happy to chat over PM's if you'd like.
But in the meantime, keep hoping

@tinysleepy

I don't know, I'm always going to feel bitter aren't I?

It even hurts to hear from people like yourself, reassuring me I'll have a baby in the future. I know nobody means it negatively - in fact the exact opposite - but it's one of those things that feels like life is taunting me. Like everyone else gets a happy ending except me.

I especially hate the words 'your time will come', as if somehow my son was fated to die, and that it 'wasn't my time'. It was my time, I am still a mother. Life was just cruel to me. There's no destiny about it.

I hate all the ridiculously smug posts here on MN 'oh I'm sad my baby is growing up' 'oh I have no me time' 'oh I have eleventy billion kids and I wish I had another I'm so sad'. I fucking wish my baby was here to grow up, I wish I had no me time and I wish so bad that I even had one child. So many women take so much for granted and it eats me alive.

I just want the hurt to stop. I don't want to go back to counselling and be patronised again.

@tinysleepy sorry namechange fail

You don't sound bitter, you sound angry & sad.

You are right, it's easy for me to be all reflective about it now I have a child; but I get the overwhelming pain of being expected to carry on when you are heartbroken. I lost 3 in total & I felt I was going to lose my mind through grief.

As you have experienced, no one wants to acknowledge or talk about it. & there is no way of avoiding the tides of pregnant women & new born babies!

It's not fair.
There is no sense to why some people can have babies & make a terrible mess of it & others have to come to terms with childlessness.
It's cruel & profoundly unjust.

Remaining hopeful worked for me; but not for everyone obviously.

I don't want to keep posting if you feel upset, so I will STFU!

I am so very sorry for your loss @sosks and I don't know if there is anything I, or anyone else, could say to make you feel better. Your memory of carrying Henry, your loss and grief will stay with you for ever, they are part of you.

And you have the right to be angry and upset, it is not fair that you lost your baby boy; it's not fair, it's not right.

But you know what, life is not fair. I share your anger, I feel it deeply running through my bones thinking of all the mothers who neglect or abuse their children, women who fall pregnant and abort their babies for some selfish reasons. Do they deserve to be mothers more than you do? 'No' - that's my answer, if I want to be fair... but life is not fair...

After 4 IVF treatments, I finally conceived. At about 12 weeks pregnancy my baby was diagnosed with Edward's syndrome and although we were advised to terminate, we decided to give him every possible chance for life. He was born prematurely at 30 weeks and passed away two days later. It's been 18 months since it happened, but it still feels very raw.

Like you, I had a lot of anger in me, anger coming from the feeling of injustice, why us, why my little boy? I cried, I screamed, I swore, I couldn't cope...

I then found a bit of a relief in my obsession of creating memories of my son. It seemed that everyone's life is just moving forward like nothing has happened while my life stopped. I wanted the whole world to acknowledge that my son existed, that I had a son, that he mattered and that he changed me and my life forever. I planted a tree, I named a star after him, I got a tiny tattoo with his name on my wrist (not for my sake; I will always remember him, but I want to provoke a conversation about him; maybe someone asks what the tattoo is about), I run a race in his memory, gave up sweets for a year, created a website where I shared my experience ( www.myminimus.com/ ) and I started a travel blog describing places visited by my son's toy rabbit. Crazy? Perhaps. But also therapeutic for me. It helped me in my grieving process.

You said that none of your colleagues wants to talk about Henry. This is so common... I came across many people who either avoided me or behaved like nothing has happened. The most hurtful for me was when couple of family members did not even extend their condolences, like my son never existed. I felt so hurt that I talked to them about it. They felt that mentioning my son will bring memories and will hurt me more. Like I wasn't hurting every day, like it could hurt more?!

Maybe your co-workers are 'scarred' to ask you about Henry, maybe they think it will be painful for you to talk about him and they don't want to cause you more hurt? I do believe that people sympathise and are very sorry, but they just don't know what to say and how to provide comfort, so they often end up saying nothing or they say wrong things. Someone who didn't have a similar experience to yours cannot even begin to imagine how does it feel, and consequently they may end up hurting you more while they are trying to comfort you.

One of the things people would say to me that frustrated me most was that my son is now 'happy in God's arms'. I don't want my son to be in God's arms. His place is in his mother's arms, in my arms. And what sort of God that takes away babies from their mums?

I share your frustration with the mothers complaining about silly things and difficulties of motherhood. I hate that too. But then again, I think how would I act if I was in their place? What if my biggest problem was tiredness due to sleepless nights looking after a baby? I would have been probably one of these mothers complaining about silly things. They don't have your experience, they don't even think how lucky they are to have healthy children. It's not their fault.

I carry less anger now. I accepted the fact that life is not fair. I thought that there are only two choices - give up or carry on. I chose the former. I am 43, I had 3 more unsuccessful IVF treatments since I had my son (carrying a lot of guilt as it felt like I am 'giving up' on Leo by trying for another baby) and I will keep trying until it is no longer possible. I still believe that there is a hope for me to become a mother again.

And there is hope for you, hope for a better future. You are and you always will be Henry's mum, no one can take it away from you.

Sorry about my long ramblings, I hope they make some sense.

@mamamus
Don't apologise, your post makes perfect sense and really resonates with what I've been through.

You and I have sadly had a very similar experience. I, too, was advised to terminate at 12 weeks and carried on for the exact reason you did. Henry had Fryns Syndrome which is similar in symptoms to Edwards. He survived the whole pregnancy and I was induced at 38 weeks, only for him to pass away before he reached my arms. I'm glad you at least had some time with your son.

I feel exactly how you describe. It's so incredibly unfair, here we are, having fought for our children to have every chance possible only for it to be snatched away whilst drug addicts give birth to healthy babies every day. There seems to be no sense to the world.

The 'happy in gods arms' has angered me many times too, it's exactly that. He should be with me, he would have been happy with me. How dare they suggest that there's a better place for my son than with me, because there was never going to be a better place!

I think sometimes it's more people want to console themselves, to convince themselves such senseless things just don't happen and it has to be for some reason. But it's not, these things do happen and trying to make it sound like it must be fate is so incredibly hurtful.

I've also had a tattoo of his date of birth, in roman numerals so I can choose to talk about it if I want to and I cycled 15 miles in his memory, raising over £1000 for Sands in the process. I've got photos everywhere and even created a miniature sculpture of him. I just really wanted something tangible, and the process of making it and pouring over each of his features was really therapeutic. I considered making these for other ladies babies as well to raise more money. I get the obsessive memory making because I do it too, I just feel like I don't have enough sometimes.

I'm only 24, so in that respect I do have time. But sometimes that overwhelms me, there's a vast gulf ahead of 'IF'. I just wish I could have some solid answers to life, that someone could say hey, don't worry it'll be fine in X years. I hate not knowing if or when I'll ever get to try again. I haven't given up by any means, but sometimes it feels like I'm fighting an uphill battle.

I split with my ex and actually recently started dating again, things are going as well as they can, it's early days yet and taking it very slowly. But I've had to start from scratch, I can't focus on trying again right now, because there is no trying. This relationship may not even work out, or the next, or the next after that, and I'll be back to square one yet again. And considering my age, who knows how many times that will happen before I get my chance, if I ever do? These are the things that haunt me.

I truly do hope that IVF works out for you, you really deserve it. I'm sure Leo is proud of you for carrying on, and for staying so strong. Both during the pregnancy and since his loss. I'd like to think Henry is proud of me too.

I wish I could change things for the both of us, I wish it was possible to exchange those drug addicts unwanted pregnancies into wanted pregnancies for ourselves. I really wish life was more fair.