Friday, November 2, 2012

Welcome to Grief-Land

Welcome to Grief-Land, the most miserable place on earth.

Just when I think the rollercoaster ride I am on is entering a slow, flat, straight part of the tracks, I quickly realize I am simply, slowly making my way up and up, higher and higher, each semi-ok day just a click on the track as I make my way to the top.  I am simply just approaching the top part of the track, the part right before I am sent speeding down the tracks, on a stomach churning free fall.  That’s what I think the past week or so has been; it’s just been leading me back into an all engulfing grief free fall-a place where my anger, bitterness and depression all surround me and pull me down.

Just when I think I am OK with STILL waiting on answers, I am reminded how much I really, REALLY need them to call.  I call at least once a week and am told each time, soon.  They’ve been saying soon for 6 weeks now!  I called on Halloween and was told they would be meeting on Thursday to discuss Avery.  So, today I called again.  Just to be told, something came up and they didn’t actually discuss her.  SERIOUSLY?!?  Are you kidding me?  I understand there are probably tons of last minute things that come up with you are a medical examiner but wouldn’t you think that you would make a case like ours a priority?  It’s so infuriating!  If their office was actually located in the town where I live, I would probably have made a visit by now.  So here I sit and wait; letting my frustration stew until I am boiling mad. 

Then, today I received copies of the medical records I had requested.  I quickly opened them and immediately regretted it.  The first page is the report from the Emergency Room on the day she passed.  Tears instantly started flowing.  I knew I requested it, but I didn’t realize the affect it would have on me.  A few key words caught my eye, like “code called at 7:01 am.”  The time they decided to stop trying to bring her back.  It felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest again.  In an instant I was back to that day, sitting in the tiny room they had us waiting in, hearing the doctor tell me she was gone.  I’ve been doing so well with not focusing on that day but this has set me back.  It’s at the forefront of my mind again, and I HATE it.  Why I opened these records while I was along is beyond me.  I didn’t even think I just tore into them.  Since seeing that first page, I haven’t looked at anything else besides her footprints; her beautiful, tiny, perfect footprints.  I am so glad to finally have a copy from her birth and not from the funeral home.  I can’t wait to do something creative with these. 

I cannot bring my mind to focus on much else right now.  I just want to know what happened and I want to push June 12th to the back of my mind again but as hard as I try, I cannot.  I know the grief process is a roller coaster, full of ups and downs but it is too exhausting and all I want is to find the exit to Grief-land.   And the realization that this is the rest of my life, that I will never truly get to leave this place, is simply too much to fathom.  I pray that I can move past these feelings this weekend, that I can find a calming peace in the midst of this awful place. 

1 comment:

  1. I'm so sorry it's been so long without any answers...That is a terribly long wait and I can't even imagine the hole that makes in everything--the waiting.

    I feel that hole too--And I'm trying to get used to the fact that we're never going to know what happened to my Luke. Since we've gotten all of our tests back, and they were all negative for any medical causes...I'll admit it HAS gotten easier to accept, but I don't think it will ever be fully accepted. It's just something I'm gonna have to live with. Which seems like the hardest part.

    I totally understand how something so minute as the code call can bring you to tears, though. Tiny little things that I see in Luke's memory box take me down to that too.

    Anyway, HUGS. I hope they get you some answers soon.