Vitamin Sun

I saw on a face book page a question about whether we feel any better when the sun is shining and if there are any other things we find that are uplifting in our grief.

I've been wondering lately where grief ends and depression begins. Wondering if I'm now, just over six months since he died, starting to suffer from depression, or is it still just grief? I certainly feel like I'm in a black hole and can't get out.

I spoke to my psychologist about it and her view is that they are intermingled, symptoms can be the same.

What I do know is that I feel like I'm suffocating in this grief. But only when I'm home alone with no other adult company. I'm very different if there is someone here, or if I'm out somewhere. But when I'm here alone, well not alone, but here with my three boys I feel just so overwhelmed by it all.

The grief for Joseph is changing and I feel (right now) that it's becoming kind of secondary. It's certainly still there, but it's different. There's a sadness that's set in. Even though I sometimes still think that there's somehow, some way of turning back the clock and rewriting what's happened, overall I accept that he's gone and it's just really really sad.

What's taking over now is the new grief for the loss of my womb, and THAT is becoming overwhelming.

We always wanted to be six. Not an odd number, no middle children (because I am one), although maybe having twins negates the whole middle child thing.

I keep reading about rainbow babies and the healing that they can bring (poor babies, what a responsibility) and I really, really want to have another baby.

I keep having thoughts, 50 times a day like "I think I'm ready to start again", then it dawns on me and I think "oh fuck - fuck - FUCK - FUUUUUCK!"

Then is all starts again. That rising realisation that it's gone and there's nothing I can do to bring it back, as is he. They're both gone. Him, and it. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

Where was I?

I'm overwhelmed at home, just with the kids. I don't shower, I don't dress. I don't dress them. If we have nowhere to go, or no one is coming over, I just don't bother. But it feels like things are getting darker. I struggle to motivate myself to do basic things and everything feels like such a bloody effort.

I wouldn't be without them for the world, they are my lifeline and I know how blessed I am in that sense. But I've never had the luxury (for want of a better word) to wallow in my grief.
To keep the curtains closed, not eat, not get out of bed. To just lie in bed all day and cry, because the minute I start, I'm called to attention, to stop squabbles, the change nappies, to clean up spilt milk - and boy do I cry over that.

So, maybe having to hold this grief at bay is making me depressed, as well as bereft.

Then, on top of all of this is finding out, nearly six months after Joseph died, that it was all preventable. That is was medical negligence that killed him and medical negligence that took my womb (that's for another post).

The grief is a different beast now. Before I blamed myself, totally and completely, for being so bloody stupid and stubborn. Thinking that if I didn't try for the VBAC that I so wanted, that my uterus wouldn't have ruptured and he'd still be here.

Knowing now that the hospital is at fault for all of this only alleviates my guilt. It does nothing to change the outcome, but my guilt is for the most part gone.

So, with a new and raw grief, three boys to stay present for, and looking down the barrel of litigation, it's any wonder I feel like I'm suffocating, which then flow onto my boys.

I don't want them to spend their days tip-toeing around Mum because she's in a bad mood, or tired, or sad, pretty much all of the above. And a day is like a week to a child.

This got me thinking about the need for anti depressants, and whether this is the time and the place for them. I'm clearly not coping, and my kids are becoming uncontrollable. I'm not in control so they're out of control.

But, it is winter. It's cold, wet and windy and maybe it's just a simple lack of vitamin D. Maybe if I can get a bit more sun I'll feel a whole lot better.