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One of my favorite babylost websites is Glow in the Woods, and the wise women there have posted these thought-provoking questions for review this month. Link here to see their post.

1 How would you describe your relationship to fear before and after the loss of your baby?

Before, fearless. In general life, anyway. Even when my pregnancy was going not-so-well, I never once really thought things would turn out badly. At least not until three days before Charlotte was born and died, when my MFM sat me down and said This may not turn out well. It was only then that I first felt fear, and it was all-consuming.

Now, I'm ok for the most part, but I'm sure the moment I venture into another pregnancy fear will be a constant companion. We've had the worst happen and have the potential for it to happen again. More than anything I fear the desperate feeling that is only now starting to fade. The pain was too immense. I fear that more than anything, and right now I avoid with all costs putting myself into situations where that pain may come back.

2. Is your lost baby/are your babies present in your life? In what way?

She is. There's a picture of her on our mantel, we have the token memory box and we've planted a garden in her memory. More than anything, we talk about her, not always in a deep meaningful way, more as part of regular conversation. When Charlotte was born...., When we were pregnant with Charlotte..., things like that.

3. Tell us about something said or done after your loss that left you feeling nurtured or supported.

My most vivid memory was when my friend J came to visit, about two weeks after Charlotte was born. She drove 6 hours to see me. While she was here, she made a phone call to another friend. She mentioned she was "at Heather's", and the friend (whom I don't really know), must have said something like Oh, did she have her baby yet? J's next sentence was Yeah, she had a baby girl! Charlotte Molly! She spoke with all the care and love and joy in her voice as if Charlotte was sitting here with me. It just seemed, well, so normal, and I loved her for saying it like that.

4. Tell us about something said or done after your loss that left you feeling marginalized or misunderstood.

Where to even start.... my mother for showing up in my hospital room two days later, making small talk, gossiping and pretending everything was fine, saying You're so young over and over again. I wanted to hit her. The many many people who I've seen that were afraid to say anything, or almost ran in the other direction. My oldest sister who had a healthy baby 10 days before Charlotte, who didn't call me for over a week after the day and when I finally called her, pretended everything was just fine and even complained about the aches and pains of new motherhood.

5. What's taken you a long time to do again? How did it feel, if you have?

I couldn't go back to work. I didn't like my job anyway and my employers were very condescending. I went in a couple of times to say hi and that was as far as I got. After half an hour in the building I felt smothered, and like I was going to snap. I finally resigned last week. I have a new (much better) position lined up a few months down the road, and I'm just going to tread water until then. I just couldn't go back to making small talk with customers, being smiley and fake-happy all day, and I couldn't tolerate working with people who believed that what happened to us, in their words, was not that bad in the great scheme of things.

In terms of things I used to enjoy, I haven't been able to enjoy shopping like I once did. I was never a shopaholic, but I did enjoy browsing in little stores and searching for new and great experimental things at the grocer. Now I'm in, and out. My interest and desire for stuff is gone; I guess I just don't see the point anymore.

6. How would you describe yourself as a partner before, and after?

Before, optimistic, laid-back, relaxed. I was always calming him down and reeling him in.
Now, a realist, weaker and more reliant. This situation has not "made me stronger" as so many people think. I rely on my husband more than ever and he's the same way. We need each other more now than we ever did, to the exclusion of a lot of other family and friends. We're building, almost against our will, our own cocoon. Me and him against the world.