Just Doing The Best We Can

The other day, someone commented on an article I did on loosing Patrick and life after for "A Lust For Life". They said they felt  what business did they have feeling depressed when they had friends like us who went through something so horrible. And that made me think.

You know what? This persons situation is as real to them as mine is to me. Their feelings matter just as much as mine. Different circumstances, yes,  but exactly that: Different. Not "worse" (me/us) and "not so bad by comparison" (them). I don't think it is possible to truly compare "lots" when talking about depression/post traumatic stress and/or mental health.

Indeed, if you were to look at it that way, then what business do I have feeling low and sad after all we went through to get this little rainbow? Should I not count my lucky stars, be grateful and stop complaining?

So by extension, it is probably ok also for me to acknowledge my struggle to bond and my feelings as real, valid and ok right now. Because as much as she is a much longed-for baby, it can be tough and I guess we don't really get a say in when things and life can all just add up and become too much. It need not always make sense either. But our feelings and struggles remain real.

Trying to get to know each other, me and this little alien that crashed-landed into my world.
Feeling very overwhelmed by the normal day to day stuff looking after a household, bills, washing, cleaning and so on and so on...On top of caring for her and her proud big brother.
Days when a letter from school about head lice or something as simple as running out of bread again could make me want to curl up in the fetal position and switch myself off from adulting for a while.

People often say that we are brave and strong. Us. People like us. But I think what it boils down to is that we just try doing the best we can with the hand we were dealt. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we struggle. Occasionally we fail miserably and quite spectacularly.

So I think I lost myself a little these last weeks. And admitting all of this (out loud to my GP) was a little daunting. But there it was. I needed a little help to find myself again. And I am getting there.

Knowing what worked in the past should hopefully help along the way. So I will give that a shot.

Running is my mindfulness and my practicing "being present".

Listening to music while running helps me deal with emotions and anxieties bubbling below the surface... Either the music or the lyrics help draw them out and the run just leaves me feeling like I've had lots of hugs and ten counselling sessions one after the other... Releasing that tension.

And counseling. It just works for me: This talking to someone. Venting. Saying stuff I can't say to others. Getting help in finding ways to verbalise and perhaps even make sense of what is going on in my head and heart.

With two sessions down and having restarted the running and the writing, I am already feeling better.

Doing the best I can. Despite the huge MISS in my life.

Chasing the Rainbow

She is here. Our daughter and our second rainbow arrived in July, 7 pounds even; not waiting for anyone - least of all her dad who had popped out for food expecting a lengthy enough wait. And I have been trying to catch up with her ever since.

She is cute. She has dimples just like Patrick. She is the apple of her brothers eye and we feel very much blessed to have her.

Yet, in those early weeks, I often found myself looking at this tiny human in my arms searching for a connection that I could not find. One, that I thought would (again) come naturally when I'd hold her -finally knowing that she was really here and OK.

Truthfully, I never did start bonding with her throughout the pregnancy like I did with the boys. Instead, I continued feeling too worried that something might still happen. Another early miscarriage, a late miscarriage, still birth, something happening at birth...I just assumed this would resolve itself after she was born.

It did not. At least not easily. In your head you know this can be normal but it catches you out all the same.

I felt that I ought to have been blissfully happy.. Instead, I was not feeling myself at all. I smiled and nodded when people said I must be over the moon. Well, I was of course, but it wasn't that simple and oh: I didn't know how to talk to anyone about it because this was not how I was supposed to be feeling (especially given our history).

That I sometimes looked at my child and felt like I am looking at a stranger.
That I often felt sad.
That I felt so helpless and stressed early on when the baby was crying and I could not make her stop.
That I worried what my temporary lack of patience and tendency to snap at small things in times of stress would do to my relationship with Eoghan.
That I sometimes still feel entirely useless as a parent and partner.
That the amount of things on my to do list sometimes overwhelm me beyond reason.
That the way I am feeling occasionally is making me withdraw and become absent minded.
That it felt like I am becoming invisible.

Of course I know there is a lot going on because let's face it: Birth and life with a newborn is hard in itself even if you take out the day to day stuff, siblings and a history like ours.

Post-natal hormones, anxiety, other health hiccups, the specter of the previous miscarriages and having the anniversary of the latest miscarriage, her birth and the would-have-been due date of the first miscarriage all arrive within the same 2-3 weeks were probably all adding up in the beginning.

On a subconscious level I think I might also be scared to get too close after losing Patrick to something so unpredictable like SUDC. Strangely, I did not have that issue so much with Eoghan as a newborn but he did arrive very quickly after Patrick died - while we were still processing everything that had happened. In any case, my brain just never went there that time but for some reason seems to have sprinted there now putting distressing thoughts into my head: "Will she be waking up from this nap?" "What other horrible thing might happen to her?"

And MISSING Patrick. The MISS can be overpowering at times these last weeks. Almost raw and fresh again. Quite possibly because she reminds me so much of him.

I don't know.

Although Caoilfhionn and me have fortunately bonded well by now, one dimply gummy smile at a time, I still don't really feel like my normal self.

I guess I continue playing catch up with our little rainbow until I do. She and her big brother certainly will keep me on my toes.