No Comfort

Comfort. What does that mean? I remember hearing it so many times in the days, months, and weeks after my daughter's death. It was often part of a sympathy card or email from someone, hoping I'd find comfort in whatever. I suppose peace is completely out of reach. Was? No, still is. How can I be peaceful when my mind and heart won't stop thrashing?

So what is comfort? The first thing that comes to my mind is a blue blanket. Here's why. Sometime during the days between my daughter's death and her memorial service, I remember sitting on a sofa in my house, surrounded by the people that kept us company during that time. It was May, but because it had rained, not as warm as it normally is here during that time of year. My friend looked at me and asked if I wanted a blanket. I think I asked her why, because I remember her saying something like, "I don't know, just seems like it'd be nice and cozy." And she put this fuzzy blue blanket over me. I'd bought it for guests to use and I don't think it had actually been used yet.

Oddly enough, when I think of those days, what I remember is sitting on the sofa, day after day, with the blanket over me, watching my friends eat and talk and worry. The truth is, I spent the better part of 2 days in my office planning the memorial service, and one day at the funeral home. I remember that too, but the sofa and blanket are the first things that come to mind. Maybe they were the only things that did give me comfort at the time.

The word has been spinning around in my head this week. I can't seem to find comfort. I miss my girl, every other thought in my head is of her. I feel alone and lost. She used to ask, "Mommy sad?" and would be truly devastated if the answer was yes. I feel as though the only person who truly cared that I was sad is gone and now the reason for my sadness.

Two friends gave me maternity clothes. It was very kind for a couple of reasons. First, because it's tough to find maternity clothes in smaller sizes for a short woman. Second, I sold many of my maternity clothes just before my daughter's death, thinking I was done being pregnant. It's turned out to be a blessing in an unexpected way, because the few items that were left remind me of being pregnant with my now nearly two year old daughter, and wearing the clothes around my daughter who, if she had lived, would be 4.

I suddenly remembered last night, the shirt I was wearing the day she died, the nursing tank top I wore to bed the night before we found her. I wore it until I went to the hospital to say goodbye and I can picture myself sitting on the sofa (same sofa, same spot) nursing my 5-week old in it. My husband tells me I should get rid of it, but here's the thing--I wore the same shirt to nurse my firstborn. In some way I bought it for her.

I've been having trouble falling asleep. And I wake up every night between 2 and 4 AM. Sometimes it's because I hear my daughter. Other times I'm not sure what wakes me, but being pregnant, I almost always get up and go to the bathroom. When I get back, I'm determined to fall asleep but it just doesn't happen. And as the week has passed, I find myself lying there becoming sadder and more anxious. In the morning, I'm exhausted.

So back to comfort. What gives me comfort? I thought of two things and right now I can only remember one. Hot showers. I like a nice, hot shower. It seems to be the one way I can lose myself. Is that really all I've got? I'm only 18 weeks pregnant, so I have at least 21 weeks to go. What will give me comfort for the next 5 months?

Overprotective

After my daughter died, another mother who'd lost her daughter told me that even now, 8 years after her daughter's death, she gets anxious when her now-teenaged oldest child is riding her bike around the neighborhood. I knew then that I had to be wary of being overprotective of my younger daughter. So far I think I've done well.

A few days ago, I had a dream all about my daughter's crib and her room. Since my older daughter died in her room, essentially overnight, it's easy to understand why I'm anxious about this. With a new baby due in July, I've been trying to figure out what to do as far as sleeping arrangements. My older daughter was on a twin mattress and boxspring and her younger sister was to share the room with her, sleeping in her old crib. That never happened. My younger child was in a portable crib until she was 10 months old, when we finally got a video monitor I was comfortable with, and we then put her in the crib.

Now, at 22 months, she's never tried to climb out of the crib and isn't yet too big for it. So I want to keep her in a crib. However, the original nursery furniture was pretty expensive as I thought it'd be the only set we ever bought. I've been looking at cribs and am freaked out at how flimsy some of them are. My daughter actually jumps in her crib like a trampoline, so I need something that's not going to shake, rattle, or roll. I also want to be able to convert it to a toddler bed so I don't have to go buy one when she finally is tall enough.

Basically, I want my daughter and her sibling trapped in cribs until they're 4 years old if at all possible. This seems OK though. A couple of friends have told me I should do whatever I'm comfortable with and screw the rest of the world and its opinion. Sounds good to me.

But, and this is a big but, my father was always what I considered overprotective. My brother and I were never left home alone until I was oh, in my 20s. The rest of my class went on a graduation trip while I stayed home. As a child, I never went on a trip with a friend, or attended any teenage drinking beer-in-the-woods parties. And I admit, I resented a lot of that overprotection. And of course I sometimes told white lies to be able to get to do what I wanted to do. I don't want my children to have to do that.

So ugh, yet another struggle. And I'm not sure exactly when my child will start struggling against me. Right now, my plan is to move my daughter to an unused bedroom in which we'll place a new crib. I'm not sure how she'll do. But she's a toddler, so I figure she can only protest so much and in so many ways. What happens when she's a teenager? Am I one day going to be arguing with her about my overprotectiveness because she thinks I'm acting out of fear? I try not to ever act out of fear.

As one of my followers said, anxiety is worry about tomorrow. Living for today is one way to avoid anxiety. I find myself reminding myself "one day at a time" an awful lot lately. Tough to do when you're trying to plan for a new baby, but really, I can only do something today, right?