for one and all > For Dads and Partners - a discussion.
How fortuitous that this was the first thread; my wife just found this site today and pointed it out to me. Our Olivia was stillborn at 36 weeks; cord accident. Next week will be nine months.
I can't write a little right now without writing everything. That has been part of my grieving experience -- I think I'm okay for a while, and then something will trigger an immense emotional breakdown.
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I am utterly clueless as to what I should do and how to proceed to live a "normal" life. That is part of my frustration; that I don't even know if I'm getting better.
I can't write a little right now without writing everything. That has been part of my grieving experience -- I think I'm okay for a while, and then something will trigger an immense emotional breakdown.
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I am utterly clueless as to what I should do and how to proceed to live a "normal" life. That is part of my frustration; that I don't even know if I'm getting better.
August 17, 2010 |
Jim
Jim
Sorry for your loss Jim. I'm actually Eliza's husband, one of the lurkers she was hoping to draw out with this post. We are less than a week away from our son's first birthday, which was sadly also the day of his death as he was born just shy of 21 weeks.
In that time I've come to find that losing a child is something that has radically altered the concepts of "normal" or "better" for me. I will say that coming to a point where your grief is something you can reflect on, even it only comes to puzzlement and frustration, rather than something that feels like it could swallow you is progress.
I think there's a certain strength and security that goes hand in hand with the word father. The mental prep of bracing to be that for a child, only to have it's need suddenly gone played out as parental inertia in the early months of grief. There was this sense of duty to offer that strength and security in the wake fo such a tremendous tragedy. Breaking down was never viewed as an option. It wasn't until later that I could realize that of course it was always an option. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that sometimes the biggest steps forward happen when we don't even realize we're walking.
The biggest realization is The biggest thing I've had to accept is that grieving for a child is not a linear process. In mourning a loved one lost under even the most sudden circumstances as time passes you don't think of them less, but the hurt fades with time as you are able to dwell less on their absence and more on the fact that for a time they were here. But how do you do that when the only time you had with a child was a time of mourning? The bad days will become fewer, times may become easier but when life and loss are so intertwined it's only natural that the times that you think of your child can still hit hard as ever. It doesn't mean that you are hopelessly damaged or stuck or failing to move on. For me that became my new normal, accepting that life could move on, even improve in some places, while recognizing that that nerve will always be a little exposed and when it gets hit it will still hurt. That wound may never totally heal but I can take solace in knowing that it has not, and never will, kill me.
In that time I've come to find that losing a child is something that has radically altered the concepts of "normal" or "better" for me. I will say that coming to a point where your grief is something you can reflect on, even it only comes to puzzlement and frustration, rather than something that feels like it could swallow you is progress.
I think there's a certain strength and security that goes hand in hand with the word father. The mental prep of bracing to be that for a child, only to have it's need suddenly gone played out as parental inertia in the early months of grief. There was this sense of duty to offer that strength and security in the wake fo such a tremendous tragedy. Breaking down was never viewed as an option. It wasn't until later that I could realize that of course it was always an option. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that sometimes the biggest steps forward happen when we don't even realize we're walking.
The biggest realization is The biggest thing I've had to accept is that grieving for a child is not a linear process. In mourning a loved one lost under even the most sudden circumstances as time passes you don't think of them less, but the hurt fades with time as you are able to dwell less on their absence and more on the fact that for a time they were here. But how do you do that when the only time you had with a child was a time of mourning? The bad days will become fewer, times may become easier but when life and loss are so intertwined it's only natural that the times that you think of your child can still hit hard as ever. It doesn't mean that you are hopelessly damaged or stuck or failing to move on. For me that became my new normal, accepting that life could move on, even improve in some places, while recognizing that that nerve will always be a little exposed and when it gets hit it will still hurt. That wound may never totally heal but I can take solace in knowing that it has not, and never will, kill me.
August 18, 2010 |
J
J
It seems that often in the wake of babyloss, dads are shunted aside, especially if the loss occurs during pregnancy. And oftentimes, husbands and partners feel they have to be the strong person in the relationship and support their partners in grief, which can take a toll.
This area is for you - we'll be posting a topic monthly, but if there is good response, we'd love to do it more often.
I have often looked at my husband, and wondered how he's borne it all - the loss of his son, the lack of physical knowledge and awareness and time that I had with Gabe, and being strong and holding together while I fell apart. Plenty of people ask me how I'm doing - especially now as we get closer to the anniversary of his passing - but no one has asked him.
So let me ask you, fathers of the babylost ranks - how are you doing? What has been hard for you? How have you coped with the loss of your child? What has supported you? What hurts you? How can we, your partners, support you?