Choosing joy

You may be wondering how I’m coping having been giving the news just five short weeks ago that our third baby due in November isn’t going to survive. That’s not all that I have going on in my life: my husband is traveling for the next 6 weeks for his job (like, he’s gone and virtually unreachable except by spotty e-mail), I have two young kids (4 years and 1 year), one of which has some special medical needs. I also have a dog, which I only mention because she’s more work than both of my kids combined. Oh, and I work full time, 12-13 hour shifts, 1500 miles away from any family support. I’ve had people at work ask me how I’m even getting out of bed in the morning, never mind how I’m coming to work to take care of perfect strangers. How can I remain so calm when I tell them about my situation? How can I smile and tell patients and family members that the baby is due in November and that I’m “excited to have him here” ? I have a few things I’ve found that are helping me deal.

I cry. A lot. Like, ugly cry, I would say at least 4 nights a week before I go to sleep. No shame. Sometimes it’s when I think about giving birth to him and having to hand him for the last time over to the nurse, knowing I’ll never hold him again. Sometimes it’s when I think about the fact that I’ll never get to watch him walk and talk and learn like I have with my other two kids. Other times it’s when I think about the prospect of him being in pain or suffering. And sometimes it’s because I can’t stop saying “it isn’t fair” over and over and over again.

I also read books, blogs, websites, memoirs, anything I can get my hands on where I feel like I can connect with someone who has dealt with this. This is by far the hardest and worst thing I’ve been through in my life. But sometimes you have people around you where the worst thing in their life is that they didn’t get much sleep the night before and they’re tired. I have to be able to talk to people who get it. Who can actually help me with this entire process. I am so grateful that not many people in my life know the process of filing a life insurance claim on their baby. Or the legal requirements for a burial or cremation for a baby at a certain gestational age. Unfortunately, there are people out there who do and those are my people right now. And I feel like asking one of my friends to come look at baby urns with me would be a bit of a buzzkill.

And maybe the most influential coping mechanism I’ve found is, as the title suggests, choosing joy. It’s so cliche, but I love it, because it’s true. Everyone has something shitty going on in their lives. If you encounter someone who doesn’t, they’re lying. Every single day when you wake up and you’re alive, it’s an amazing thing. And if you can get out of bed and choose joy, it’s an even more amazing thing. As someone who has struggled with post part depression, I don’t want to disparage those who have imbalances and who can’t just “choose joy” and move on. For some it isn’t that simple. But for the rest of us, I do think that choosing joy is something that is a conscious choice. I could very easily get out of bed and be in a terrible mood all day. I could groan and roll my eyes at everyone that said hello to me. I could say “terrible” every time someone asked how I was doing. Misery loves company, right? But being miserable isn’t going to change my situation. Projecting my sadness, anger, anxiety, and uncertainty on others isn’t going to heal my baby. And it’s not going to make me feel better, either. Now, am I happy every minute of the day? Is every day full of joy? No and definitely no. I can be a little edgy. I can get a little sensitive and take things personally. Sometimes I yell at my dog. Sometimes I need to walk away and take a mental time out. But at the end of the day, despite the fact that I wake up every morning wondering if today is going to be the day I stop feeling my baby boy kicking me, I have so much in my life to be happy about and thankful for. In the midst of mentally preparing myself for a baby that is going to die, I have two kids who are very much alive (one of whom wants snacks every four minutes). I have a husband I am so deeply in love with after over a decade of cross country moves, separations due to work, special needs children, missed births, and now the worst nightmare a parent can face. I have an amazing comfortable home in a safe area with good schools. I have enough money to pay my bills and provide for my family. I have great health insurance and all the resources I need to ensure my kids thrive. We have an absolutely amazing village of people who would (and have) dropped everything to help us out. I choose joy because the great things in my life consistently tip the scale. I choose joy because choosing misery seems like an awful lot of work. And finally, I choose joy because someday, my kiddos are going to be old enough to understand what we went through when they were young and I hope that I’ve set an example and given them the tools to choose joy when life isn’t fair to them.