Stillborn - 91 days later - 3 months (I cry at restaurants)

Today we decided to get out of the house. You know, like we used to do BEFORE. Back when we were just Sonya and Tim, a married couple with no children. Carefree and could just go and enjoy.

It's different now. Everything is different now. I'm different, our house is different, Tim is different. Places I visit are split into a strange automatic question - The question says: The last time you were here were you pregnant? Was it before you were pregnant? Was it AFTER Faeryn was born? I'm not sure why this happens, but it is a constant. It's something that happens as I pull into parking lots, as I walk through doors. There is always a Before Faeryn and an After Faeryn. The hurtles are the ones where the last time I was there, and everything was okay. Those are my toughest ones. And then they turn into, Last time I was here was after she died. And that's how it will always stay.

We went out to eat tonight. Dinner and a movie at Tim's suggestion. This is something he loves, and I just like to get the hell away from my depressing house, so I'm game for anything.

We went to Outback. We've never been to this one. We bought movie tickets online with reserved seating and knew we had to be done eating by 7:00.
We were seated in the children's section.
No. That doesn't really exist, but if it did, that's where we were sat. Surrounded by toddlers and their parents. The past few days haven't really been AWFUL for me. I have days that I spend all day attempting not to cry, so I know what awful is. The past few days have been mediocre. I have cried. Once a day. And at this current time - 3 months into After Faeryn. I think that's pretty darn good. And by pretty darn good, I mean I could almost say I've been happy.

So we are sat and I look over and diagonal to my line of sight is a little girl. I would guess she's about 2. She has blond hair and blue eyes. She is very inquisitive and is waving and blowing kisses to her grandmother sitting across from her. I look at her mom, and she is blond, average to pretty. I look at the little girls dad, he is average to handsome and wears glasses. The little girl is standing between them smiling. You could feel the love the parents have for their child. They were smiling and paying attention to her. Including her into their discussions.
There were other kids surrounding us. Little boys and other little girls, but THIS ONE kept drawing me back to her. I saw the life in her little face. The life in her blue eyes. The tiny chubby hand as she blew kisses to her grandma.
She reminded me of Faeryn. Or should I say what my mind would make Faeryn look like at 2 years old. It also reminded me that I will never actually know the light in my little girls eyes, the smile on her face, I will never see her tiny chubby hand wave.

Faeryn had the cutest little hands. Perfectly formed little rosebud nails. She had momma's hands. She was so cold though, and I never felt them move or hold on.
Maybe all of this is why tears started falling. It was one of those moments that you almost panic. I would have gotten up and went to the bathroom, but I didn't know where that was - and to find out I would have either had to wander around the restaurant in tears or ask a server, while crying, where the restroom was.
So I attempted to just make myself stop. Stop looking and STOP CRYING. It didn't work. It was one of those times when crying just has to happen. It was one of those times when, even as I sat there and asked Tim to talk to me about ANYTHING, the tears still fell. One after another, after another. I had to look to the wall on my left and try to get it together. Think about something else - stop thinking about the fantasy Faeryn, stop thinking about her being gone, dead. Forever.

I had ordered a glass of wine with dinner and prayed that it would soon make its way over to our table. I don't drink. But I was looking forward to escaping some of the thoughts that were way too loud in my head at dinner. I've been attempting to fill my void. I've been filling it with unhealthy foods mostly. I am completely aware of this. I am also completely aware that this will not help any of the goals I would like to achieve. One being losing the pregnancy weight so that I can fit back into my clothes again. Another would be to feel better about myself. But late at night. When I'm alone and Tim is sleeping, that void opens up and the sadness is sitting there threatening to overwhelm me. Chocolate or desserts help for the moment. They press the sadness back down for the night, but that's always followed by the self-loathing and feeling of loss of control the next morning.

So this is where I am in my journey 91 days into the death of my daughter. Overeating. Staring at live children, wondering if their parents KNOW the pain that some of us feel. Crying in restaurants. Hating the way I look in the mirror. Not fitting into my clothes. Missing my little girl. Touching her urn at night, feeling the cold marble. Wishing she was here.

There are also days that I have laughed, and laughed hard. There was also a day that I think I had a panic reaction out of no where at work. There are good days and bad days - they come as they want whether I'm ready for them or not.

91 days in - I never thought I would make it this far. I couldn't see that far into the future 91 days ago. Everything stable ended then. It was survival mode, and I couldn't see the point of planning for my future as my future was ripped from my grasp in an instant. So unexpected. So very fast.

I have planned an escape for Tim and I. So I think that is a step forward too. We are going to Sanibel Island in August. I am attempting to plan again. We shall see if we make it. I sure hope so. I miss being naive. I miss expecting things to work out. But this is the new me. This is my new normal. I learn more every day.

I'm so good I can almost fool myself

Ahh. My neighbors.
I live in town homes. We've lived here for 8 years now. We were the quiet couple with cats, that would say hello to our neighbors, but that never bothered anyone or got in anyone's business.
I remember the day that Tim told the young couple two doors down that we were expecting - I was three months along at that point. They were so excited, as the wife (who I will call T) was very pregnant at the time and due in January 2016 with their second child, a little girl. Every time we would see them outside we would wave, and we would ask each other how we were doing etc. Tim and T's husband (Who I will call J) now had something in common, more than just their unruly beards.

There is also a Mom and her daughter that live right next door to us. I caught the Mom staring at my belly one day, doing that sly little glance. I was imagining that she was wondering why I looked like I drank a 6 pack a day as that's what my pregnant belly looked like, a beer belly. I rubbed my belly and said that we were expecting. I was 6 months along at that point. The Mom and daughter were SO happy for us. They gave me a big hug. Every time I would see them out, they would say "Hi Momma! How are you??". We would talk for a few minutes, exchange pleasantries and we would all go in our homes.

This all went on for months - well, up until week 34.

As there was no notice of losing Faeryn... it all happened so fast and unexpected, we hadn't seen the neighbors from April 8th until I was released from the hospital on April 11th. An unfortunate part of being pregnant, delivering your child and not being able to bring her home with you, is you still LOOK pregnant and you have no baby.

So as we got out of our car, J was walking the dog past us. All excited (as per our normal conversations, and he wouldn't know to act otherwise) he asks "You have that baby yet? You guys getting excited?". I look over at Tim, he looks at me and I shake my head no. I told him that "we gave birth to Faeryn yesterday". I will never forget the look of horror on his face. He apologized profusely saying that he shouldn't have asked us, he's so sorry, he can't believe he said something, can't believe he asked. He starts stumbling over his words as he's reaching for his town home door to disappear as quickly as he can. I tell him he couldn't have known, please don't feel bad for asking, we are okay (though we aren't), just trying to relieve his mortification.
I don't want to be seen as "those people" either. The "people with the dead baby". The "people that cry all the time". The "haunted couple". The "pitiful people in Unit F". I could go on and on...

I had the misfortune of sitting out front, smoking a cigarette (yeah I started smoking again, full out chain smoking maniac, just to get through the first few months of this madness), and waiting on my therapist to come by for our appointment. T and J pull up in the truck. I haven't seen any of them since the day mentioned above. T has had her baby, and she's around 3 months old at this point. I start looking down, scanning the grass, look over at my car, and then I notice that maybe I'm being weird, so I look over at them, try to act "normal" and wave or something. J has the baby in a carseat and is now at the door to their home and I see T crawl out of the front seat (her back is facing me) and she stares over at her husband with a completely panicked face - Wide eyes, mouth set in a line. I can almost read her mind with her body language. It says Holy Shit - what do I do??? Do I get my 4 year old out of the car? I can't keep her in there, but SHE is outside. HER, the lady who's baby died. T goes to the backseat and gets the 4 year old out and walks her to the door. I'm now full on staring, as it's SUPER weird, but I want to show how "okay" I am. That I will still speak, I won't cry from seeing a child or baby. I'm not "THAT person" some weirdo that holds fake baby dolls and acts like they are really her baby. Or the lady you hear on the news that has stolen someone's baby/child because she wants a child so bad. I'm DEFINITELY not THAT lady. I would love to have Faeryn, but not some random child, no thanks.
So I speak to the side of T's head (as she is NOT going to look over) and I say "Hi" while waving to their little girl. T stares straight ahead towards their home and says "Oh, she just woke up, she's grouchy". I say "aww, that's okay". They go in.

A few days later I'm finishing up watering the plants and rolling my hose back up. I hear a noise and look to my right. It's J coming out of his house with the dog. I do that weird, smile/grin and look away. Fuck, lets not make everyone uncomfortable, so I stare down at the hose, like this is taking all my attention. He walks the dog behind me and asks quietly "So, how are you doing?". I was actually having a rare, okay day and I stop diddling with the hose, stand up and talk. I tell him that I'm doing okay. I also tell him, with a smile, "Look, I don't want to make you all feel uncomfortable. Like we are crazy people sitting in our house crying all the time. I'm not one of those people that wants to steal babies or anything like that". He has a surprised look on his face and laughs, like he can't believe I've said such a thing. He asks if we are going to try again, to have another baby. I tell him that it was really strange. The night that Faeryn was born, Tim and I discussed that. We knew as soon as she was born, that we were meant to be parents. That we KNEW instantly the amount of love we had to give a child, and that one day we would like to be given that chance. He said that he and T were talking about our situation. And that T stated that if this ever happened to her, that there is no way they would ever have another child. She wouldn't be able to handle it. I nodded in agreement and said I could definitely understand that feeling. As this is the craziest, most awful shit to go through ever. Ever. EVER.

I was hoping after this conversation that it would be better. Maybe we could all go back to normal. That it wouldn't have an awkward vibe if we were all outside at the same time. Unfortunately, T hasn't been the same. She has crab-walked from the car to her house. By that I mean walking sideways with her back facing me and the car seat in front of her. I was confused if she was shielding ME from the baby or shielding the baby from ME. Like I had the plague and if I coughed too close they might catch it. She hasn't spoke to me since I've been home.

This morning I was locking up the house and heard my immediate neighbors (the Mom and her daughter) coming out too. They haven't been AS weird to me as T has, but I can tell they don't really know how to act around me. So I turned around as they were staring down, trying to unlock their car, in a hurry. I said "Goooood Morning!" I shocked myself with the sound of my good morning. It sounded SO normal. SO okay. And you know what? I wasn't okay today. I was really, really sad. I have those days most days now. But I keep trucking. I keep going. I still get up and go to work, I cry in my car before work and some days at lunch. But you know what? I have gotten really, really good at faking it.

I'm so good I can almost fool myself.

*Photo courtesy of Algrim Whitefang