I don’t believe there is anything sadder then a child that has passed away.  I was at church on Sunday and…

Well, let me back up a bit.  Last summer I got pregnant “by accident”.  I was horrified.  I was on a med that you are supposed to quit if you get pregnant.  So I had to decide what to do and of course I was hypomanic through the whole thing, completely freaked out.

And then I had a miscarriage.  Only it wasn’t like I thought it would be.  I thought I would just get my period and have heavier then normal cramps and that would be the end of it.  But no, that was not at all what it was like.  I passed a bunch of tissue and what would have been my baby.  There was a ton of bleeding and it was really scary.  I have had three children and this pain that I had was like a mini labor.

Every time I get my period now I think about that baby and what I lost.  And I wonder often if it was because of my meds.  Because of my bipolar.

So when a child dies I remember.  I remember what happened to my child that I didn’t get to meet.  And I worry about my other three.

So at church on Sunday I was sitting where I buried my miscarried baby and I was thinking about the fragility of life.  There has been some digging and planting on the church property and I started wondering if our baby would be exhumed and I just kind of panicked.

I am afraid to feel.  I have slowly been shutting down.  Because when I feel then I overreact and then I lose control.  My family needs me not to do that.

Who am I if I am shut down?  If I am not flitting from one drama to the next?  If I am calm?  I don’t know that woman.  She seems muted to me.  Quiet.