Today Is Luke's Birthday
My brother, who was killed. Six years ago now. He would have been 33 today.
I don't feel like I can write about the reality of how I feel. I feel like I have to hide how I really feel and I hate it. No one wants to be around someone who can't move beyond something like this. The only story anyone wants to hear is the one where you go through hard times and triumph over them, come out the other side stronger and better. But that is just not the truth of what's gone on here, even though I try to pretend that (act as if) it is, every day.
This has totally destroyed the person I was. And I don't know what I'm left with. I get up every day and try, try to love all those in my life (and there are many wonderful people in my life...I get accused of being ungrateful of that fact, but truly I am not), try to be happy.
But the reality is I feel like I lost my life too, have from Day 1. I had a psychologist tell me once my brother and I, because we were so close were "fused," and because of that I have trouble seeing what happened to him as separate from what happened to me. That makes sense to me, makes sense of my strong, strong feelings that my life was taken away as well, feelings that persist to this day.
I feel so alone. So outside the norm of what grief is supposed to look like. So lost, still. And I have no idea what to do to make it better.
XOXO
A Letter to My Brother, Six Years After His Death
How cool is it when your brother's in the band? A picture from one of his many shows...
Dear Luke,
Six years. In some ways it seems like yesterday, in others, that life I had with you seems so far in the past it’s almost as if it never happened. I hope you’re OK and that this hasn’t been as horrible and traumatic for you as it’s been for me.
Would you be surprised by the life I’m living? I had to leave our house in Santa Barbara, and all of California, behind. There just wasn’t the joy there without you. I never really surfed again after you died, which has been such a huge loss (although I brought three of the surfboards with me when I left, including the one with the panther on the nose that was yours but you always let me ride)…I’ve never been happier than early mornings in the surf with you. Once I stopped surfing, there wasn’t a good reason to stay. And I was seeing my now-husband (he had been working your old job up in Alaska, which is how we met)…he had moved to Seattle and I was so sad and lonely in the house you and I had shared…I thought maybe it would be better to go. I made the right decision to go be with my husband, but I’m still not sure if leaving California was the right thing. It’s hard to know if I miss IT, or I miss the life I had there that no longer exists. Would I be happy going back? I don’t know.
I lived in Seattle with my soon-to-be husband for six months…but it was winter and so grey and I was so sad…my husband thought I might do better closer to mom and dad, and so that’s how we ended up back in Colorado.
I’m married now, as you can tell. I work a lot less. I have your dog Dexter…I think he still misses you. I snowboard instead of surf (and sometimes when I’m out alone I sit on the side of a run and cry, I want you there with me so bad.)
My husband’s great…you would love him. We’re trying to have a baby, but that’s not going so well. I keep thinking a birth, some life, some pure joy would help me not to hurt so bad from your death and the loss of that whole happy life as a California surfer girl…I mean, I want to have a baby for so many more reasons than that, but I can’t help thinking having something happy to share with people instead of being the one who’s had to bear so many hardships…
I like to think of you in some happy and peaceful place, with a Jeep and my dog Shaye who died the year before you did, she’s hanging out on the beach while you surf the perfect waves and you don’t have to struggle anymore…you don’t have to deal with all the heartbreak you dealt with in this life, all the trying to figure things out and how are you going to find a girl to love and are you going to be an architect or stay the free spirit who can’t resist heading up to Alaska every time spring comes around. You don’t have to deal with disappointments and you don’t have to be sad when people you love die and you get to be the golden 27-year-old who did exactly what he wanted to do with this life—you’ll be that man forever.
I felt for a long time that when you died, I died too. I don’t feel that way anymore. There’s my husband now, and mom and dad and our brother, and I have such amazing friends and I’m trying to figure out something good to do with all the many years I probably have left. I do know life will never be the same without you. I’m glad it was you and not me, that you haven’t had to go through what we all have since you died (although I’m sure you would have done it with much more grace and poise than I). I’m not afraid to die, because it means I’ll get to be with you.
I love you, and please come visit me like you visit other people. I haven’t had a single sign that you’re in some way still here.
With love beyond measure,
Kristen
FAQ Fridays: Missed Miscarriage: What Happened?
Q: What is a missed miscarriage?
A: It's where the baby dies, but your body doesn't recognize that that's happened so it doesn't expel the baby like with a "normal" miscarriage. Apparently, it's very rare.
Q: What happened with your pregnancy?
A: I had a positive beta on February 17, which rose nicely on February 19. I had an ultrasound where they saw the heartbeat and the baby measured right on track at 6 weeks 5 days (March 7) and another at 8 weeks 6 days (March 22). Went back to my OB at 11 weeks 5 days (April 11) and they told us the baby had died right after the last ultrasound, so somewhere in the 9th week.
Q: Did you have any clue something was wrong?
A: At 11 weeks 1 day (April 6) I had a tiny bit of bright red bleeding. My RE asked that my hormone levels be checked, and they were very low. They upped the medication and told me everything was fine, not to worry, there would be a lot of bleeding and cramping if something was wrong. My local OB said the same thing and that I didn’t need to be looked at…they’d just see me in a few days at my appointment. So with all that reassurance and the fact that I still felt so pregnant (nausea, exhaustion, etc.), I didn’t really worry. Maybe I knew though and was just trying to stay positive and not scare people around me (my husband, our families). I really wouldn’t let the thought that something might be wrong into my head.
Then on April 11, right before my appointment, I had my blood drawn and got the levels back. Still low, which made me really scared. And then my OB tried to find a heartbeat and couldn’t, and then looked on the ultrasound and told us.
Q: What did you do?
A: Went home and cried. Scheduled a D&C for the next day. Called my RE’s office, and they didn’t really have any explanation for what went wrong; neither did my OB. “These things happen,” is essentially what we’ve been told.
Q: How was the D&C?
A: Awful, of course, but everyone was really kind, and it didn’t hurt other than getting the IV in. I don’t really remember it to be honest. After, my husband sat with me while I was monitored for about an hour, and when we got up to leave he hugged me and said, “We’ll never be in this room again.” It was such a sweet thing to say to me.
Mild cramping that day and the next. Pretty severe cramping that came in waves 2 days post-procedure. Feeling pretty OK today so far.
Q: How have you been since?
A: Beyond sad. Heartbroken. This is a really horrible thing to have to go through.
Q: Have you gone back to work?
A: I work at home, and have done a few hours here and there, but not much this week. Haven't been able to concentrate. My husband took the week off school.
Q: Were there a lot of people you had to tell?
A: Our parents knew we were expecting and are so sad as well, of course. We’d also told a handful of friends about the pregnancy, and they have all been really caring and loving and supportive about the miscarriage. One person where I work and my husband’s professors at school knew…they have all been wonderful, as well. We’ve gotten a ton of love and support this week, for which I am grateful. I’m also glad we didn’t tell more people than we did about the pregnancy so there aren’t a ton of people we have to explain this to. We were going to start spreading the news next week…so heartbroken we don’t get to do that.
Q: Do you know what’s next?
A: We’ll do a regroup with our RE, try to get a better understanding of what happened. We have frozen embryos--a fact that I am so, so, so, so grateful for--and we will do an FET as soon as they’ll let us…looking like July at this point. Pray that things work next time around.
Ugh, what an awful, awful week. So glad it’s almost over.
Dealing With Miscarriage, Day By Day
First of all, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's been reading and--especially--commenting. Your presence and support really mean so, so much to me right now as I deal with the awfulness that is this week.
Today's been OK. Tried to work, which went OK, although it wasn't the most productive day on record. I work at home, so my day went something like this:
Answer emails and voicemails.
Go lie down in bed with my husband and cry.
Get everything in order for a regulatory review.
Talk with a friend who's called and cry.
Get on a conference call.
Go downstairs and sit with my husband and cry.
Etc.
My husband's in school, and they've been so nice to him...told him to take the rest of the week off. I'm probably not going to work much more this week either.
I slept through the night last night maybe for the first time since I started the IVF meds back in December. Yay for small victories! And physically I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. I've been trying not to complain, but really, I've spent a good part of the past two months in bed dealing with a LOT of nausea and exhaustion. Today I'm up and alert and don't feel sick (although there's some residual cramping from the D&C, but it's minor). I forgot what it's like to feel like this...didn't realize what a fog I was in with this pregnancy.
Overall, today's been better than yesterday, which is all you can really hope for. I'm so glad my husband and I have such light schedules between now and Monday, and can really spend some time together. I just want to be with him. Having him with me and knowing how much he loves me and how he wants to try for another baby as soon as we can (and we have frozen embryos from this last IVF--I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for that) is what's saving me right now. That and not thinking beyond today. My mantra has been:
"Just get through today."
Thinking about what's next and pregnant again and maybe more losses and what if this never happens for us what are we going to do then is just way too overwhelming.
But I'm going to make it through today.