Out of sight, out of mind

I've always found there's some truth in those old sayings.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Definitely truth here.

:::

Over the last three years I've come across many babylost parents.

Most of them are first time babylost parents. And by that I mean, they've only lost one baby. Some (like me) are multiple babylost parents. A few (like me) have lost babies over a period of time (as opposed to a multiple pregnancy which resulted in more than one loss).

What I'm getting to is that as babylost parents, we all know what it's like to "lose" friends after we've lost a baby. Usually as a result of having lost our precious baby. And to lose other people we thought we could count on.

:::

If I look back at my circle of friends from around the time Freyja was conceived, and I look at my circle of friends now, well, there's no resemblance. (Actually, there's no "circle" as such now. There's just a small handful of faithful people. Many of whom are also babylost parents.) They've been dropping like flies over the years. I've had a number of years and THREE DEAD BABIES during which time my so-called friends have left me.

I have always prided myself as being a very loyal friend. And I think my friends all appreciated that loyalty. I've always been a fun friend too. And I'm sure my friends all liked that about me. I trusted my friends. With my life. Because I was single, and not in a relationship, my friends were my family.

Yet they've dropped like flies.

:::

My relationship with friends, and also with family (parents and siblings) has suffered enormously in the last few years. The relationships are not recognisable any more.

Friends who I used to travel extensively with, are now nowhere to be found.

I'm lucky if I receive a note via email or FB once every 3-4 months from friends who I used to spend every weekend with.

And if I'm really, really lucky, they'll acknowledge the birth and death of one of my children by way of a note, an email or a card. Some don't even bother with a note any more. I simply don't hear from them at all. Phone calls don't come. They don't call. None of them call. All those friends, those good friends, those close friends, people who I thought were like my family, they don't call.

:::

Then again, family is not that reliable either. Oh yes, they're reliably unreliable. They're predictable. And that's very disappointing.

That bloody letter I wrote to them. I put my heart into that letter. And they didn't really have anything to say about it. And it hurts. So much.

Because we are geographically so far away, I have no opportunity to tell them in person how I really feel. To share my pain with them in a way that lets them SEE MY PAIN. So I put it in writing. And they don't respond other than to say, "don't say that again, it's too hurtful".

My pain and how I choose to express it to them, is too hurtful for them.

If I could express it differently, I would. But you see, if I speak of these things to them on the telephone, they just hang up. If I speak to them of my pain, my rage, my anger, my disappointment, my disbelief, my shock, they just hang up. They say "don't do this to yourself". They don't want to know. They don't want to hear. And it turns out, they don't want to read.

They know that awful things have happened in my life, but as long as I don't stick evidence of it under their noses, they can pretend. So they do. They pretend that everything will be ok. They continue to think positive. They believe that god has my children in his arms. That my children's death is part of some supreme plan. That I will survive and come out a better person. They pretend everything will be ok.

And they can do that of course, because IT IS NOT HAPPENING TO THEM.

:::

The few people who I still have contact with, they're asking me out for lunch now. Come and have lunch, they say. And I think, today is 5 weeks since Jet died. Five weeks ago today I woke up and found Jet dead in his cot. And people are asking me out for lunch???? It's all very surreal.

My boss rang me a couple of days ago. I knew what she wanted to speak about, so I was avoiding returning the call. I rang her yesterday. She wanted to know whether I'd given any thought about returning to work. Or maybe whether I'd decided that I didn't want to work any more. And I thought, Jet died 5 weeks ago, and I'm supposed to make these important decisions now? I can't even decide if I have to go to the toilet, and I'm supposed to make a major career decision now?? I told her my head was not in a place where I can make these decisions, and I didn't think it would be much better in 4 or 5 weeks. So she's marking my absence as "ill".

Another "friend" emailed me yesterday. She wanted to know if she could call me. If I was up for a telephone conversation. I say "friend" because although she used to be a very good friend, time and distance have made their mark. We used to be close, but that was many years ago. I don't know what I could possibly talk to her about.

Will she be like all those other people who call? Those people who call me once to salve their consciences and then never call again? I'm a bit sick of those people.

One of my aunts called last week. She'd obviously made the call after being prompted by my parents. (I really, really dislike people who call and then say during the call that someone else prompted them to call. It's as bad as people who actually say "this is a courtesy call".) Anyway, I talked to my aunt and I said how awful it was that such a beautiful, healthy boy died for no apparent reason. And she says to me, "but I thought it was his heart". And I was amazed. I mean, where did that come from? Where does she get these ideas? I hate it that SOMEONE is out there saying these things about my son (and probably about my other children too) which are completely wrong.

:::

I am completely filled with rage at the deaths of my children, and stupid people and their stupid assumptions and their even stupider attempts at communications make my rage even worse.

I have never felt this full of rage before. Never.

After Freyja's death and Kees' death, I was the one who tried to calm Craig's rage. But now it's the other way around. I am absolutely filled with rage. At everything and everyone. And people who say the wrong things, or are simply stupid, they're right on my list.

:::

My children are all dead, yet the world goes on. And no-one really cares. Oh yes, lots of people say that they think of us, but we are still alone. We suffer alone. I try to look after Craig and he looks after me. Noone else cares enough to look after us.

We can't even talk about this fucked-up life with other people, because it's upsetting to them. It's hurtful to them. So we can only talk to each other. And I get to write down my feelings on this blog and even then it upsets people. My reality, and what I write about it on this blog, upsets people who I don't even know, and I'm supposed to feel bad. What a bad joke.

I don't have the capacity to care about other people's feelings at this time. I really don't. But other people expect me to have that capacity. They expect that. (Other people being so-called "friends" and parents and siblings and even some people who used to read this blog.)

What planet do they live on?

:::

Life goes on.

The world goes on.

Babies are conceived and they grow and they're born and they LIVE.

Everyone's life goes on.

Except mine.

I wake up to my life every morning with a shock, and for the briefest of seconds I hope that it's not real.

But it is.

And then I just want to scream my head off.