16 Weeks.
Holy shit, really am I going to be 16 weeks pregnant?
I have been keeping myself pretty busy for the last few months and maybe that is how I have gotten to 16 weeks so quickly? When I stop and look down at my growing belly, which seems to be growing at a rapid rate I still can't believe that the belly I see is mine. I am having a hard time sometimes really letting go for this one...I want to bond, and I do, but some days this is all just too surreal for me. It feels a little too dejavu at times. Maybe once I start to feel movement and I am sure that it's movement and not gas, then things will feel more solid for me. I hate that I get to a semi-detached place in my mind from this pregnancy. I feel like I did when I was pregnant with Birdie, I feel good, I feel happy and besides the Hypothyroid so far everything seems to be going well. Have any of you had trouble bonding with subsequent babies in utero?
The other thing that is on my mind is this photo project. As you may know I have been working on and thinking about for a good long time now this "Family Portrait" project. I am getting back into it now, and starting to take new photos of any objects that we have collected or been given to remember Birdie by.
I am also trying so hard to work on my artists statement more because I am getting my shit together to submit these photos to galleries. I want so much for these photos to be seen by many, to effect many. Now, I need to ask those of you who are writers and I know that many of you are...could you or would you take a look at my most recent statement and tell me what you think? I am not the best at articulating my ideas through writing so I need all the help I can get to make this statement as strong as it can be.
"Family Portrait explores the invisibility of grief in our American society. Why do we hide from our grief, pain and sorrow (and the grief, pain and sorrow of others?) Why do we as a culture encourage this behavior for each other? What are we ashamed of? I ask this question in regards specific to when the death we hide from is that of a child.
Not until a recent tragic, and horrific loss in my own life, the death of my first born child Birdie who was stillborn on March 3, 2007 have I ever questioned the way in which we "handle" death in this country. The traumatic death of my child, and the intense grief and anger that are with me everyday since have raised so many questions about public grieving for me. As a grieving mother I have become an advocate for speaking out about my grief, my pain and my anger. I have not been and will not be quiet about the death of my daughter.
After Birdie’s death, and while still in the hospital with her we photographed her and each other with her. Even though we were deep in shock, we knew to photograph was right and important, as the days we would have with her would be our only moments with her. With this “evidence of experience” that we have to look upon we retain the searing trauma, intense anger and manic pain of the death of our child."
9 comments:
Probably is gas -- movements are normally felt at between 18 to 20 weeks in a first pregnancy, in subsequent pregnancies, often not until 21 wks.
Don't worry about bonding, it'll happen.
Are you taking Synthroid? Are you feeling better?
Glad to see you've got this photo project to keep you busy.
All the best.
The anticipation of that first thump-thump is agonizing, isn't it? The moment is so special :)
A girl in my expecting club on ivillage lost her son a few months after his birth. I realize that the situation is a bit different, but she had a really, really hard time bonding with her next pregnancy. She had been through such a tragic experience that it was so hard to be happy when she knew that nothing was certain in life. It was even more difficult for her when she found out she was having another boy. I remember her really beating herself up about it, but what more could anyone expect from her? She was and is always going to want her firstborn back. She, of course, did fall madly in love with her second baby boy, but it wasn't until his birth and finding out that nothing was wrong and she could feel "safe" about loving him. I pray that you will be granted that sense of peace, and it will come in it's own time. I wish that you could have the ignorant blissful pregnancy that many of us have, not because we were deserving of it, but because God knew we weren't strong enough to deal with anything else. I'm sure you will have your own personal joys with this little baby inside, because that's who you are.
Take care Honey,
Meg
I can't believe you're 16 weeks either, but I'm so glad you are! I didn't feel movement in my subsequent pregnancy until close to 22 weeks -- after feeling it way earlier the first time. And I had a really hard time bonding. This may sound kinda crazy, but when I found out it was another girl, I kept the envelope of ultrasound pictures on my nightstand and gave the envelope a kiss and a wish for her to live every nite til she was born. But during the day, I couldn't stand when people asked if I was excited or if I'd picked a name, or generally noted I was pregnant at all. I'm glad you're dealing better than I did...
Not a writer but a teacher, and offering some minor editing - feel free to ignore:
Family Portrait is an exploration of the invisibility and denial of grief in our American society. Why do we hide from grief, from our own pain and sorrow, and the pain and sorrow of others? Why do we as a culture encourage this behavior in each other? What are we ashamed of? I ask this question specifically when the death we hide from is that of a child, that most unacceptable of deaths.
Not until a recent tragic, and horrific loss in my own life, the death of my first born child Birdie who was stillborn on March 3, 2007 have I ever questioned the way in which we "handle" death in this country. My first born child, Birdie, was stillborn on March 3, 2007. Until this tragic and horrific loss in my own life, I had never questioned the way in which we “handle” death in this country. This traumatic death of my child, and the intense grief and anger that has been with me every day since, has raised so many questions about public grieving for me. As a grieving mother I have become an advocate for speaking out about my grief, my pain and my anger. I have not been quiet about the death of my daughter. I will not be quiet about the death of my daughter.
Following the horror and distress of Birdie’s death, and while still in the hospital with her, we photographed her and each other with her. Even though we were deep in shock, we knew to photograph was right and important, as the days we would have with her would be our only moments with her. With this “evidence of experience” that we have to look upon, we retain the searing trauma, intense anger and manic pain of the death of our child."
Don't worry about the bonding - it will happen.
With best wishes
I think that if you were not feeling hesitant and surreal you'd be abnormal. In fact it may not be until this baby is safe in your arms and screaming his head off that you feel safe enough to trust. I also suspect there will be renewed grief for Birdie side by side with celebrating the new baby's life. You just move through it at your own pace. Like the grieving process, this is all on your own terms and your own time.
Erin, You aren't semi-detached, just self protective. When Samuel was born though, I realized I'd been fooling myself if I thought I hadn't bonded with him from the moment I saw his little heartbeat in the sac, if not earlier. You will love this baby madly and you already do. It can't be the same as with Birdie. But it won't be less.
I think your statement is incredibly strong and beautifully worded.
My only suggestion would be to add a sentence to the last paragraph echoing the first paragraph's discussion of the "invisibility of grief." Maybe something about how your photos are meant to break down the wall of invisibility, to make the invisible visible.
Erin- I felt exactly the same way. I didn't want to bond with my subsequent baby so that if I lost him it wouldn't hurt. Like that would work. I didn't bond with him directly after he was born either. The whole situation was just weird. All the hormones and being in the hospital just reminded me of losing Jimmy. But I can say that seven months out I love Andy something fierce. I still love Jimmy and always will,but I did find room in my heart for another, and you will too.
Hey,
I was just looking at your 16 week pictures...so beautiful. I'd love to get together if possible...let me know :)
Love ya,
Meg
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