Lately though he's been bringing up Matilda a lot more. I'm not sure if is just his grief surfacing after a period of time, or my pregnancy progressing is bringing it all up for him, or the fact I'm coping better these days means he feels like he can. It helps me to know he thinks about Matilda so much but breaks my heart all over again to see him crying about the daughter he's never going to get to hold again. The other day a friend asked me to reply to a comment on her blog from someone who felt a early miscarriage was just a painful as a stillbirth or neonatal death and they were jealous of us having funerals and acknowledgment of our babies. My point here isn't to take away from the pain of miscarriage. I know it's devastating. But I don't think you can say you know how I feel if you've had an early miscarriage. I told DH this and he stood there with tears running down his face and said 'How could anyone be jealous of me, I had my daughter for four days and then watched her die'. Grief is selfish and sometimes I forget just how much he hurts.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
A Dad's Grief
DH's grief has always been different to mine. From talking to others and reading, it's different in the typical ways that female and male's grief generally is. I've always talked about it more, cried more, and have turned inwards rather than outwards from non babyloss friends and things I used to do. His reaction was to go back to work and try to stay busy. I'm lucky in that he does show emotion and talk about it a lot more than some other men. It's just been that generally it's only when I've instigated conversations about it. Some in ways, he hasn't had a choice. I was such a mess in the early weeks and months, that he had to be the strong one, return phone calls, do the grocery shopping, and all those other things that don't stop just because your baby died.