Monday, 14 February 2011

Slogging around

Everything is an effort. Everything takes strength.
Going to the park and seeing babies playing on the swings - effort.
Sitting in traffic and watching prams roll past on the pavement - effort.
Thinking about my career - effort.
Trying to change our living situation - effort.
Speaking to friends. Speaking to family. Cooking dinner.
It's all a bloody effort. And I don't seem to have the energy.
Maybe it's just the post-holiday blues.
Or maybe I just really hate where I am right now, and seeing as there is precisely nothing to do to change that, everything else just feels like a mammoth uphill struggle.


  1. Alice, not to sound like a stalker :) but I have read every single one of your posts this afternoon at work via Google Reader. I have to say you remind me of how I felt in the very begining.
    I can promise you that there will come a time when what you have listed will no longer become an effort, it might not seem like it now, but that one day will arrive. Hugs xox

  2. Alice,

    I'm a new reader/follower as of late. I lost my son Liam due to pre-term labor/IC at 23 weeks in April 2010. Your blog/messages to Bear are precious and beautiful. I also want to say that what you are saying/writing today is exactly how I felt early on. Believe me, it's still really difficult to see babies/pregnant bellies, except now I don't visibly cringe (I hope) and dart away from them. Now I just get that twinge in my heart and try to avert my eyes so that I don't look crazy. It will get better and slightly easier but sadly it still hurts just the same and while many of what you list still feel like effort, it's not requiring as much of me as it used to. (I am not pregnant and do not have another child, so I'm speaking from the perspective of still not having a living child). Just continue on...somehow you'll get through it even though it feels insurmountable.

  3. I can only echo what others are saying. I saw your face on faces of loss and found your blog.
    I wanted to et you know that the immense effort to do anything does fade. I remember coming home from being 'out' and feeling both physically and emotionally drained. It took every ounce of my being to face the world. I also remember wanting an emotional bullet proof vest, or a t-shirt that said 'back off I've just buried my son'.
    I promise a time comes when it isn't a wide open sore heart thats popping out of your chest.
    in the mean time, my warmest thoughts are with you, C xx

  4. I'm adding the same thoughts. Most days, in the early months, trying to get through the day was like swimming in treacle. Some days I wished I had "My baby died, don't talk to me" tattooed on my forehead, sometimes I wished I had "My baby died, pleasepleaseplease talk about her so I can too" It gets easier, I promise. Though, I find that there are some things that I can't be bothered with still. It's not that it's an effort, I just don't think they're worth it. Catriona's stillbirth changed me. It changed my priorities, it changed the way I relate to my 4 and 5 year old children. But it does get easier, eventually. x