November 18, 2011

30 minute chat

I've been sick with a nasty sinus infection these last couple days. Today I got home from work, sat my sick ass on the recliner and attempted to try and nap. But this pounding headache kept me tossing and turning and extremely uncomfortable, sooo I turned the tv on, popped open the DVR and decided to try to 'catch up' on some shows and hopefully fall asleep in the process. I started in on the two hour episode of Private Practice. There was a part where one of the doctors was at his wife's grave, talking to her. And I realized something I had forgotten, well made myself forget.

On Monday I had my first visit with Dr. D-grief counselor. Yes, that's right, I finally did it. I finally decided to wave my white flag. I finally admitted to myself, that although I have seemed to fix myself my whole life, I may need some outside help to mend this broken lady right here. And so, on Monday I got to meet Dr. D and so far, I adore her. She gives me an insight and a point of view that I have never thought of. Which that's their job right? But she does it without making me feel like what I'm doing, thinking, feeling or acting is unnatural or weird. Again, her job right? Well amongst all the things we talked about in this 60 minute session. (who knew so much could be crammed into what seems so little time) she gave me a tool to use.

I think I speak for many when I say that we don't like to feel. We pretend, heck we could Oscar award winners with the acts we put on. We wake up, slap a silly smile on our face and go about our day. Strangers never knowing what lurks behind that facade of a smile, co-workers never really seeing the pain behind our eyes. For me, I got so good at playing this part, the part of a healthy 'normal' working class citizen that I forget. I forget to feel, partly because I don't want to, but mostly because I'm afraid I can't stop. It seemed Ok to cry at first, but now? Well now I have to be strong, now I have to move forward, now I have to live my life. But that just wasn't settling right with me. So, with that being said, good ol' Dr. D gave me something to do. Something I could use to work through that fear.

Create a grief box. (metaphorically not literally) She told me to use her room, since we still have all her things in there, and a lingering smell favorable to Savanna only. Go in there, she said, set a timer.. whether it be 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, or an hour. Whatever you want, set the timer and go in there. That way you're in control. You now there is an end because you set the timer and you know when to stop.

My reaction was well, I'll feel stupid and silly. It seems dumb.. what's that going to do? NOTHING! She then said to me to just try it. Go in there and lay in the middle of the floor. And do whatever it is I feel.. not what I THINK I SHOULD  feel. And that right there made such utter and total sense to me. I think we get wrapped up in what we think we should be feeling or how we should be reacting rather then just letting it be whatever it's supposed to be. She told me that I might even surprise myself, but try it just once a week, talk to her, cry for her, be angry and scream if I have to. But do whatever I FEEL.

With work and school and sickness, I pushed that to the very bottom of my to-do list. It all sounded groovy in the session, but real-world settled back into view and it just wasn't going to work into my schedule. Well, I didn't want it to work into my schedule to be honest. And then tonight I watched that episode, and saw that part and it all came back and I knew I had to do it. So I did. I stood in front of her room, phone in hand with the timer set for 30 minutes. And can you believe that I was nervous?? My heart was beating fast and I was getting anxious. It was an unreal feeling. I opened the door, turned on the light and sat. Set the timer and off I went....

Silence. I sat there and stared.. who knows how long. And finally I just started to say my thoughts out loud. I talked to her. Some tears were shed yes, laughter was made yes, anger was outbursted yes, memories were brought up yes. But I did it. And in the end it didn't seem as bad as I had made it. And I actually came to a few of my own conclusions. This is my reality and I know it is, yet I wonder if it will ever feel like it's unreal. It's been a year now, and yet it still feels so unreal.

It's no secret I want another baby. When it will happen only the Lord knows. But I stumbled upon some deep down feelings about I never was able to verbalize before. Sure I want another one for all the obvious reasons.. I want that feeling again, I want this void to somehow be filled, I want to feel like my purpose as a mother is still very real, I want to feel like I can succeed. Mostly I have told J that I want to prove to myself and the world that I can raise a healthy productive person. But something I came upon tonight that I had not realized before is that I want another one to have a piece of Savanna. No not to replace her, not to have a clone of her. There will never be another Savanna Dawn. But in her little sister/brother there will be snippets of her. Maybe in the way they look or their mannerisms perhaps in their personality and character. With the love and the pure joy from sharing another child with J I will somehow get a little snippet of my Savanna.

I carry her in my heart, in my memories, in the very brink of my soul. She is with me everywhere I go, and I see her in small moments of each day. Tonight, felt like a breakthrough for me, a small one yes, but a breakthrough nonetheless. I let myself feel something tonight. Something I have not allowed myself to do in quite some time. We all get so busy in our everyday lives we forget to ALLOW ourselves these small moments to ourselves. I only wish I had done it sooner.. but somehow this was the right time. I'm not sure I could have handled it sooner. And somehow I have felt a little closer to her.

We ended the chat with "The Cat in the Hat." I guess I can read to her again. It made me smile.

11 blessings, thoughts. &. feelings:

Tarsh said...

Loved this post, sat with tears in my eyes almost seeing you talking to your daughter...big hugs and all the very best with the future and any more babies...

Allison said...

Praying for you. That picture of her in your last post is absolutely so precious! God bless!

Shannon said...

Tears and hugs.

Tena said...

I made it through the whole thing without crying till you got to the Cat In The Hat part. So proud of your courage and strength. Love you my friend.

Natasha said...

What a beautiful post Tabatha. I can relate to so much of what you have shared here. I think we do try to pretend our way through every day. But how lovely that you were able to spend time with Savanna in her space and just feel/say/do whatever you needed to. I think we don't do that for ourselves enough.

Praying for you and remembering your little Savanna always.....xoxo

NewYearMum2.blogspot.com said...

Time is her room sounds like such a beautiful thing to do... you're so brave and such a wonderful mother to her xoxo

Ashley said...

In reading your post, I felt like I was literally reading about my life here lately.

2 years after losing my son, I finally took the steps to get in with a counselor, therapist or whatever you wanna call it. I have finally realized that I can no longer be strong when on the inside I'm falling apart.

Thank you for this post!!!! It's so nice to know that I'm not alone on this awful road I'm traveling!

Tiffany said...

((hugs)) such a beautiful post. and i could relate to so much. thinking of you and ms. Savanna always. ♥

TanaLee Davis said...

I so know what you mean when you say you just want a piece of her in another child. I "get" that. I too desperately want that for me and my hubs. Im glad that you sought out hope when you saw reason to...not everyone will do that b/c of pride or what have you but nonetheless Im proud of you.
~Felicia

Mamarazzioftwoboys said...

Cried my eyes out. You have such a unique way of writing. Praying for you.

Karen said...

Continuing to pray for you! I've seen SO many ladybugs lately, and every time I see one, I smile and think of Savanna.