A year ago…

I had just started back to work.

I was fortunate to get 3 months off paid
and then came back to a new job
in the same department.

New challenges seemed like a good idea,
but fortunately “work” knew to start me off easy.

I look back now
and can’t believe I managed to finish
any projects at all in those first 3 months.

What a difference a year makes.

My brain was like mush back then;
I could hardly concentrate.

A lot of the time
I had a running tape in my head,
reminding me, painfully,
“My daughter is dead.”

Over and over.

Needless to say,
that made concentrating during meetings
a bit difficult.

I was lucky that my work was (and still is)
so understanding.

It used to be every day
that my eyes would fill with tears.

Then it was every week.

Now,
I can’t remember the last time
I cried at work.

I guess that’s progress.

I still think of
Malou
and
speak of her,
often,
and I have some wonderful colleagues
who aren’t afraid to say her name.
But I can laugh and joke without getting sad,
and I concentrate on projects
and feel like I’m actually productive.

I couldn’t do that a year ago.

***

I have a picture almost exactly like this one

Malou and her dad

on my desk.
Most people are used to seeing it now,
since of course they all know what happened.

But last week,
I had a woman at my desk
to go over some material,
and she saw the picture,
and cooed,

“Oh, is this your baby?”

I was tempted to just say Yes.
But then I thought about how
that could turn out.

I don’t have much experience,
but I can imagine
parents get follow-up questions.

Is it a boy or a girl?
How old is she?
What’s her name?

and so on.

So, I said,
“Yes, that’s my daughter but she’s dead.
She was stillborn.”

(Don’t ask me why I said “she’s dead” when stillborn sounds,
to me, so much softer
and is usually the word I use, since after all
Malou
doesn’t feel dead to me. Not really.
She feels missing.)

Anyways,
it went okay.

The woman handled it well
and we talked about it for a few minutes,
and I felt like a proud mama more
than a grieving one.

That’s my wish for all babyloss mamas,
or really all people who’ve lost loved ones:

That,
for the most part,
 we can remember our loved ones
with happiness
and not tears.

I’m getting there.

Some days more than others,
but I’m getting there.

I just wish
I had more memories
to look back on with happiness.

I just wish
I knew what
Malou’s
face looked like when she was happy.

I love you, my sweet girl. I hope you’re happy wherever you are.

Advertisements
Published in: on September 16, 2009 at 19:51  Comments (6)  
Tags: , , ,

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://wednesdayswithmalou.wordpress.com/2009/09/16/a-year-ago/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

6 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I’m glad that situation at work went well…I can definitely imagine how that felt. Your last line about knowing what Malou’s face looks like when she’s happy really got to me since Eleanor has recently started smiling. I cannot wait until you have baby #2 in your arms and you get to see his/her smile. 🙂 I’m sure Malou will be smiling down at you, too.

  2. Thinking of you Stephanie. Holding out for your good news.
    xo

  3. I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I think Malou is happy too, to hear her mama talking about how much she loves her girl.
    I can’t wait to hear about the anatomy scan! I am sending all my good thoughts your way. Love you!

  4. This is great news hearing you say yourself that you feel better and more positive. 🙂 I can see it myself, as I said before. Your work sounds a good place to be. It’s funny how things turn out. The first job you applied for in Cph, in a prestige firm, and you got it. Well deserved too!:-)
    All good thoughts and prayers are coming your way.
    Hugs

  5. Just a quick comment to say hi, and I’m sorry for your loss and the angelversaries you now go through. I haven’t yet had a chance to read through your blog, but sending you hugs and a safe journey through this pregnancy xxx

  6. Thanks for your comment, bir. I’m sorry for the loss of your Ciaran and thinking of you this month as you approach one year without him. 😦


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: