Balancing between stages - Where is my safety net?
After Mazzy died Adam and I had to change grocery stores. Right, or wrong, it was the choice that best helped us get through the day-to-day. It took us out of our comfort zone, but changing stores helped us become another face in the crowd. No one questioned where the baby was or gave us "Sorry" eyes.
It has been nearly ten months of shopping at a store that we hate. Yesterday Adam and I were walking down the aisles and he says, "I think we should try going back. Next week. Just to see if we can do it."
I was flabbergasted. I haven't been able to go back there, at all. I can't even look in the direction of the building, but Adam says that he has made quick stops. We are hoping that the people that recognized us would have quit, or changed shifts or something. We are stronger, more easily able to answer the questions without crying.
I am, quite frankly, scared out of my mind, but I do want to support Adam. He is ready, and that is important. We are healing at different levels. There are things that I can do that he can't, and apparently, this heading back to the store, is one of the things that he can do that I can't.
We had an experience last night that I am still processing. I guess that is what prompted Adam to come to his decision. Some guy that Adam knew "back in the old 'hood" bumped in to us. He was playing fast catch-up with Adam about his family and one of his questions was about kids. Why didn't we have any? Adam just glossed over and said that we didn't, but I felt weird. Are we supposed to lie? Like, is it more polite to tell people that we just never had a child? Am I supposed to spare their feelings? Or is that just Adam's choice and I don't have to do that? It was a mess, for me. I felt confused because I am proud of the child that I had. I want to smile and remember and be her mother, but I do understand that random people don't need the little punch. No one wants to hear that a baby has died.
I am considering writing a asshole version of a self-help book dealing with grief. Even if it is to get some of this anger off my chest. I think I am finally getting to a place where I am not scared of how I sound to other people. I am not worried about sparing them from my bad days. I am comfortable with the fact that my baby's death has changed me and that I miss her. My way isn't soft or sweet, it never has been. I am tired of everyone trying to push me in to a pastel frame of what grief should look like.
It has been nearly ten months of shopping at a store that we hate. Yesterday Adam and I were walking down the aisles and he says, "I think we should try going back. Next week. Just to see if we can do it."
I was flabbergasted. I haven't been able to go back there, at all. I can't even look in the direction of the building, but Adam says that he has made quick stops. We are hoping that the people that recognized us would have quit, or changed shifts or something. We are stronger, more easily able to answer the questions without crying.
I am, quite frankly, scared out of my mind, but I do want to support Adam. He is ready, and that is important. We are healing at different levels. There are things that I can do that he can't, and apparently, this heading back to the store, is one of the things that he can do that I can't.
We had an experience last night that I am still processing. I guess that is what prompted Adam to come to his decision. Some guy that Adam knew "back in the old 'hood" bumped in to us. He was playing fast catch-up with Adam about his family and one of his questions was about kids. Why didn't we have any? Adam just glossed over and said that we didn't, but I felt weird. Are we supposed to lie? Like, is it more polite to tell people that we just never had a child? Am I supposed to spare their feelings? Or is that just Adam's choice and I don't have to do that? It was a mess, for me. I felt confused because I am proud of the child that I had. I want to smile and remember and be her mother, but I do understand that random people don't need the little punch. No one wants to hear that a baby has died.
I am considering writing a asshole version of a self-help book dealing with grief. Even if it is to get some of this anger off my chest. I think I am finally getting to a place where I am not scared of how I sound to other people. I am not worried about sparing them from my bad days. I am comfortable with the fact that my baby's death has changed me and that I miss her. My way isn't soft or sweet, it never has been. I am tired of everyone trying to push me in to a pastel frame of what grief should look like.
Comments
fuck pastel and glossy, man.
Other people's reactions are not your responsibility (easy to say). I think you should get to talk about Mazzy, her life, her death, how much you miss her and on and on without worrying that it might make someone uncomfortable or they won't know how to react.
It is inevitable that one is there in that place with them, you know? I'm having trouble wording this. For random reasons people will ask about my dad or whatever and at some point it might come up that he died and they're unaware of that. I feel apologetic and then it's like..what else do I do? It happened. You don't have to cushion things for other people.
I would like to believe that grief support groups would address this, but the only one in this area for grieving parents is highly Christian, which doesn't work for me, I am dealing with all of this blind.
And just because I am more straight-forward, it doesn't mean that I haven't accepted her death, or that I am even angry about it. I don't gloss over things to myself, so why do I have to make things easier for other people?
Bah....
BTW, you are great to have around. I think knowing you, and how you are healing from your father's death, is good for me. Just in case you were wondering...