Grief stage: GuiltFear

Is that even a stage?  If not, I'm hereby making it one.  I hate this - I'm intelligent, I know that grieving is a process, it's not an overnight thing, it's not linear - feeling anger doesn't mean I won't feel it again -- I can rationalize all of that.  And it still doesn't make it any easier to go through and knowing all this doesn't help me avoid it.

I felt it a little yesterday, kind creeping in around the edges.  It's like feeling that someone is following you and at first you're not sure and you don't want to look like a paranoid crazy by whirling around just in case no one's there.  But then you get pretty sure that someone is following you but you still don't want to turn around because maybe they're just going in the same direction you are.  Maybe they're even going to the same place you are and that doesn't mean that they're following you so you still don't whirl around like a paranoid crazy.  Then you're positive someone's following you and you feel the 'flight' adrenaline rush because you just know that the 'fight' will not end well for you but you don't know if you'll be able to run fast enough so maybe you should just give up and stop before you even start running and let whoever or whatever it is following you just have you. 

Thank God there is no one in the lobby right now, so no one sees me shaking and trying not to cry.  But maybe they don't see - maybe the shaking is on the inside and the tears are invisible.  But I feel it.

Kesha and I went to yoga last night.  The grief websites and stuff say that you should pick one thing from your pre-tragedy life and get back into that slowly.  I feel so disconnected from my body right now and I thought it would be a good thing.  It wasn't easy as I was super tight and couldn't do about 60% of what I used to be able to do.  It crept up on me during one of the twists - a twist that I didn't do when I was pregnant because you're not supposed to do anything that manipulates the abdomen during pregnancy.

But there was that one time.  Early on, and I already knew I was pregnant.  I was teaching and my class knew I was pregnant and told them I wouldn't be doing everything full-out.  I was trying to talk them through that same twisted pose and they weren't getting it.  I tried a couple more times and finally I showed them, doing a modified version but it was still an abdominal twist!  Did that do it?  Did I crunch up my baby and mess things up?

I used some Goo-Gone to take a sticker off of our mirror one time and the strong smell got me.  I read the caution afterwards and it said 'causes birth defects!'  I freaked out and ran outside, taking in huge gulps of air, knowing that those seconds had done something.

When I first found out I was pregnant, the first thought I had was 'this was too easy, this happened too fast.'  I felt guilty instantly, shushing myself, hoping that no one heard my thoughts.  Did I speak this miscarriage into existence?  Will God make it harder for me next time, to make sure I'm grateful?  My chest hurts.

...

Last night Drew and I had a 'pause-fire' night.  I won't say 'cease-fire' just yet because I'm so freakin scared.  I hate this.  I came home from yoga last night and he was eating dinner and reading a magazine.  It was quiet in the house and I didn't want to disturb the silence.  I just wanted to slip into the pool without making any ripples.  He'd made dinner and I made myself a plate and sat with him while he ate and read his magazine.  No talking, but more importantly no fighting.  When I finished I tidied the kitchen and went to the bedroom to read.  One of the ladies at his work had had two miscarriages and a 19-week stillborn baby.  She said that the book 'When God Doesn't Make Sense' helped her a lot so Drew got it for me the day I came home.  I hadn't read it, hadn't even moved it from its spot on the dining room table - I didn't want to read it because I'm sure it was full of stupid platitudes like 'just have faith and don't be angry.'

I didn't want to hear it but last night I picked it up.  I'm only through the first handful of pages but so far no platitudes.  So I'll keep reading, but the first sign of a 'just say a prayer and it'll all fix itself' and the book goes in the trash.

Drew came to bed and turned off the lights.  In the darkness, he found my hand - his ring clinked against mine and I wanted to scream.  No scratch that, in that second I was so scared I couldn't have screamed if I wanted to.

Don't let him touch you!  You'll get pregnant again and the baby will die!
Oh God, go AWAY!  He's holding my hand, go away!  Please.... just go away....please.
NO!  You'll get pregnant, but it'll be worse!  It'll be stillborn!! or something else horrible!
Please please go away.  (Shit, there's someone in the lobby and I'm crying now.  Shit.)
LET GO OFHISHAND!  You'll get pregnant and it'll die!
I will not.  He's going to roll over and I'm going to spoon his back because I'm cold and I need this.
FINE, get pregnant.  You ready to do this again?  You ready for another baby to die?
I'm just holding his hand.  I won't get pregnant.
HA.  You want to take that chance?  Well then, what do you think about *this*.

The *this* was a spark of electricity that went through my body when I touched his.  Just a spark and God knows nothing happened but it scared the ever-loving SHIT out of me.  Totally involuntary because I'm still (sort-of) mad at him and I'm terrified of getting pregnant again, but I was so scared. 

I calmed down enough to just hold him and I didn't even scream.  Nope, that was all in my head till I fell asleep.  On one hand it was nice to just connect, to have a moment, just a moment to let me think that maybe, just maybe, I'll live through this.  On the other hand?  The Fear?  Not so much.

And then I get to work this morning and I open my blog (thank you all for staying with me) and thought I was going to have a heart attack.  Okay, so........on my blogroll?  Under the 'Great Reads' part?  The one that ends in 'Machine'?   

I don't even want to say because I feel so contaminated right now and I'm scared that me even talking about her will contaminate her in some way.  But she has a whole BLOG devoted to.....you know.  And she's finally......you know.  And I'm SO SCARED for her!  How rational is that?  Oh my GOD!  She has SO MANY followers!  What if something doesn't go well?  What if there's a problem!  Y'all think I'm playing, I'm shaking right now. 

I am praying so fervently right now - FERVENTLY - that everything is story-book, textbook-perfect, that she has a perfect you-know-what and comes out with a perfectly healthy happy you-know-what.  I totally feel like the crazy bag lady with the crazy white hair and the crazy tattered clothes and crazy eyes that wanders around randomly grabbing people and predicting crazy things.  I don't want to be thet person!  I want to just be me!  But I feel like I couldn't outrun whatever was following me last night - that I inhaled the black smoke last night as I slept.

Because it's in me.  I don't even want to TALK to Drew on the COMPUTER because he might get me pregnant and it'll die.  I want to hide under my desk because there are pregnant ladies in my office and I'm scared that if they come near me I'll kill their babies too.  Do you know how AWFUL that feels? 

I have a grip, don't worry.  But I'm shaking and sweaty and my hands are slipping.  shit.

Update:  I spent my lunch hour on the phone with Kathleen who assured me that I am not powerful enough to kill babies with my sight.  And that I can't get pregnant by holding hands.  I don't entirely believe her and I may have to call her later today so she can tell me again, but I've gotten out from under my desk (metaphorically - I haven't completely gone over the edge.)  I totally wish I was still there just in case she's wrong but I'm sitting here.  Focusing on her words and trying not to shake.  This sucks.