As I mentioned in my last post- So this last week was very emotional for me. Sunday came and went very uneventful. Monday started out the same. I took M out to play and on my way home...I saw a crowd of small birds on the road in front of me. As usual, I slowed down and once I got closer all of the birds flew away. Except for one, as I got closer I thought the bird would fly away like the others but this bird didn't and the next thing I saw in my mirror was a dead bird laying on the road, I immediately went into shock and panic mode. A feeling very familiar in the last 8 months. I once again have killed another living thing in less than a year. I, like 99% of the world am guilty of killing insects but this was a completely different feeling. I "know" Jeremiah's death is not my fault. However, my body was trusted to carry him and it failed. Failed miserably. Everyone says to me that it's not my fault but honestly it's a feeling I can't shake AND I have this fear of carrying around another dead baby because my body might decide to fail again. That same night I had a dream that I was pregnant with twins....one was a boy and one was a little girl. The boy died inside of my body but I still had to take him to term because the little girl was alive and well. It was very strange. Maybe this is God's way of telling me that I will have a healthy child? I don't know I hope it is.
Then on Wednesday I got a phone call from a friend from High School who happened to become a midwife. She has her own practice now and after losing Jeremiah I have gotten very close to her. One reason why is because I want her to be my advocate when rainbow comes. I need someone who knows and can question the doctors etc. Anyhow...she knows about the Jeremiah's Boxes project and called to tell me that she saw one of my boxes. I immediately thought the AMEND coordinator had taken them to a sensitivity training of some sort but I was wrong. I hated being wrong. One of her patients went into early labor at 18 weeks. Her beautiful daughter was born and she was given one of the boxes. My heart broke. I was happy that a box was given to her- I was happy that Jeremiah's legacy was being kept alive but I was devastated that someone else joined the baby loss community. That her beautiful little girl has now become an angel. That she has to feel all these horrible feelings that come along with being a BLM. When starting the box project, I knew where these boxes were going my main goal was to help someone not feel so alone in this journey, I never thought I would know about it, in my mind I was happy knowing that they would sit in a closet forever. I did not prepare myself mentally for something like that and I guess that with the combination of killing the bird just made me ultra sensitive.
Now here is the last thing this week has brought me.....I take following other people's blogs seriously and before I follow someone I really want to be sure that I can offer something to this person and help them on their journey in someway...even if it's just reading their blog. I have been following some one's journey very closely since I lost Jeremiah. I took to this person's story because it was very similar to mine. This person never followed my blog at that point. When I decided to do the memory butterflies, I personally emailed this mom and offered a butterfly to her in memory of her angel. I also told this mother that she was a huge inspiration because she has since had rainbows and beat pre-eclampsia, which for me is huge! I sent her the link to my blog. She added herself as a follower but once she got her butterfly a week later she took herself off as a follower. At first I thought it might have been a system error. Maybe she deleted her blog. Then on Wednesday night I saw her commenting and posting on her blog and another blog. I started to double guess myself- was my story not good enough? are the butterflies not enough? Did I offend her in some way? Should I stop making the butterflies? I know this sounds petty...my husband says it's high school and I agree but I can't help but feel hurt that someone would do that. Plus throw in the bird killing and "knowing" someone got one of Jeremiah's boxes and it just set me off. So for all of you that read this please know- I am usually not this hypersensitive.
But even though this week has been a rough one, I can say good things have come. I guess God knew I needed someone to bring me up and I have personally gotten three separate emails starting on Wednesday about the butterflies and how much they have been appreciated. I also got a shipment of Calvin's Hats for the boxes, and Sarita, Meredith's mom sent me a beautiful scrapbook tag in memory of my bullfrog. Thank you ladies- You helped me see the sunshine in a week where all I saw was haze and fog.
Here's hoping for a week of mellowness. Happy Sunday to all of you!
