{Tips for Saving a Relationship after Loss}

So yesterday's post, Love and Loss was super hard to actually post. But there is no turning back now. It went viral in 24 hours. So now you all know about my marriage woes.

In addition to my husband's and my flushed cheeks from embarrassment this am, we also woke up to dozens of emails and comments that told us how they were struggling or had struggled in their marriage through loss. Not just baby loss, but loss of what they may be used to or perhaps a disease that makes it difficult to maintain the same lifestyle they once had and on and on.

I should state clearly I am in no way a therapist. I am struggling, have struggled, and will continue to struggle with my marriage this I know. But I also got inspired to write some things that I have found helpful and those things I haven't.

1. Talk about your child.
This was a hard one for in the beginning. Claudette shares my mom's name, whom had passed shortly before our daughter, and it was very difficult to be "reminded" of that loss daily. I would hear the kids constantly say her name. That was different. I remember first hearing my husband say, "Claudette". It was during a prayer for her and my safety shortly before she was born. I think my love for him grew right then and there and continues to grow every time I hear him say it since.

2. Don't talk about your child.
This one seems kind of harsh, but my husband helped me understand he is different than I. Sometimes he just wants to watch a movie and not be reminded of reality. It's okay to take breaks from reality (yes I know it always in the back of our minds).

3. Do something to bring your child into the holidays or celebrations.
Holidays are stressful. Not having a loved one there makes it all the more stressful. Pain equals anger too quickly and if you add stress to that combination you are just looking for something to go wrong, so why not just be clear about it from the beginning. My son helped with this one. Several weeks before Christmas, he suggested we buy a baby Christmas tree for Claudette. So I did. You should have seen my husband roll his eyes when I walked in the door with it. No we didn't have money for it. Yes it was a real and would get needles everywhere.  But I never had to turn the lights on the tree each evening, because my husband already had. It gave him a way to express his love for his daughter.

4. If you having a rough day, use a signal.
This was a really great tip I got from fellow baby loss mom. Sometimes it is just too hard to say what is bothering you, so have a candle that is lit if you are particularly sad at some points. I bought one and it sits on our coffee table. If Dustin gets home and sees it, he knows I am having a rough day. I even caught him lighting once. It is a great tool to let the other person know, I need you.

5. Have sex.
Well I have already let the cards on the table in our last post about our lackluster sex life so I might as well continue. Sex is important! Very important to marriage. You may think there is NOTHING less appealing than it after losing a child, but sometimes it is a great way to be reminded of the intimacy that you both so desperately need. As time drifts on, it may be harder to connect. Have sex anyway. It may be the only way you have to "communicate" at the time.

6. STAY IN YOUR BED.
This may sound silly, but our marriage slipped away when I started wondering off to the guest room or couch to avoid at first his horrible snoring...and frankly his sleeping. It made me mad my husband could sleep, let alone snore throw such enormous grief. HOW DARE HE! As time went on  I started to resent my husband for how much he slept. The nights is when all my anxieties came to the surface and I had to think about them through a polar bear next to me growling. Now, I realize his need for sleep (and LOTS of it). It is really a manifestation of his grief. He immerses himself in work to avoid reality. I immerse myself in reality to avoid grief. No one way is better than the next. But if I would wonder off to sleep in another bed, I find the mornings the same bitterness is there. If I just stay in bed, something as simple as our feet rubbing against each other in the middle of the night help re-connect us.

7. Leave.
Leave the house. Leave the house. Leave the house. It is so important to get a change of scenery. No you don't have to spend money. But go on a date. Family dates work too. We set it in stone. Monday nights we go out together. It is something we look forward to every week and makes the weekends way less dreaded. Don't be too jealous. Often it is a family trip to the grocery store.

8. Stay.
There is a fine line between going lots of place and well...going lots of places. In other words, sometimes it is just too much for one partner to bare. Take time at home. Make it your safe place. A place you can scream, cry and laugh without judgment. Dustin and I have spent many a Saturdays hiding in our bed all day. It is so important for the grieving process I think. {Warning: others don't understand this one, and will take it as depression.}

9. Say no.
Control, of loss thereof, is one the hardest things about losing a child. If you could control things you wouldn't have lost your child. Your marriage and other relationships would not be falling apart. But you quickly realize after loss, you are NOT in control. A way to keep some semblance of control however is to simply say, "no". It gives you power. Saying no to a friend who wants to go out. Saying no to your spouse. If you say "yes" when you mean "no" it builds resentment. Resentment ends relationships. End of story.

10. Say yes.
Okay, okay! Yes, it may seem I am contradicting everything I just said above, but you know those times when you aren't sure or not if you should go. I mean you kinda want to, but then you have to get dressed and put on a bra. Well, but on a bra ladies. It may save your marriage.

11.  Ask.
I cannot tell you how many times I needed my husband to just ask me something. Then the day finally came, "are you okay?" I lost it! I mean ugly cry lost it. "No," I snorted through the tears. Then the next thing happened that may have saved our marriage, "I want to take you out!" What?! You want to take baggy-eyed, yoga pant wearing me out? "You look cute! Let's go." I am telling you guys, no matter what the circumstances, telling a gal she looks cute gets her every time!

12. Don't ask.
"What's the matter?" What do you mean what's the matter?! Have you not been a participant in the last year?! GEESH! AM I ALONE!!! That all goes on in my head. Answer said aloud: "Nothing."
Sometimes actions speak way louder than words. Sometimes we just need a partner and not a grief partner...someone to pitch our butt when we walk by or wink at us from across the room. Oh man, winking that's the best. I can't wink (I know. I am defective.) But my husband does a mean wink. He does it all the time. He is super quite, but when he winks at me, I know. I know he is thinking about me. He does this all the time from when we are sitting watching TV to when I a laying in a hospital bed ready to deliver a stillborn.

13. Be honest.
This is perhaps the most important thing. If you aren't feeling it, be frank about it. Sometimes just talking through emotions help us understand our emotions better and we are more likely to overcome them. 

14. Love is a choice. Choose it.
One of the above mentioned messages I got was this:

Someone commented that it was a depressing quote, because the more we know each other the more we see their flaws. But I think it also beautiful. To love someone despite all flaws, to embrace each other against all odds and circumstances, to choose a flawed person out of billions of other flawed ones, that is love!

This is love!

 

Photo cred : Amanda Eaton Photography

Love and Loss

With Valentine's coming up, I can't help thinking about our marriage. Mr. Elliott and I.

Since the loss of the twins in 2011, we have had deep peaks and plunges in our relationship. More of the latter.

Grief is hard. A death of child tears away the core of your being and adds kerosene to issues you might have already been coping with in your marriage.

A few months after the miscarriage, our marriage took a very bad turn. One we had never had before. It was hard I think mostly, because I was still so broken and my husband who had not bonded with the twins didn't understand my loss.

Then there was the loss of my mom. My mom was so close to not only me but my husband. So a barely bandaged relationship was again ripped open by loss.

It was a very hard time financially as well. I wasn't working much, if any, because of the difficult pregnancy with Claudette.

They say money, sex, and death are the key factors for tearing relationships apart. Since we had little of the first two and our fair share of the last, our relationship was hanging. Grasping by a string really.

This is no way to bring a child into the world, and we were about to. Then we lost Claudette. Dustin and I went simultaneously into shock. Every time our eyes met, tears filled them and we were forced to look away. This went on for months and months. The first year of her passing we grasped onto each other like Jack and Rose during the sinking of the Titanic.  (Although I think I moved over more than Rose so "Jack" could actually get on the raft.)

It wasn't until her first birthday that our already fragile ship, sunk. It was ugly and loud and hateful.
I was leaving for the birthday memorial and I asked where the kids coats were. A simple fight over where they were turned into World War 3. Words were said that should never been said to people that live in the same planet, let alone ones that love each other.

It began a downward spiral. It was a lonely time for us. I was sad. Dustin was sad. We both acted wrongly on many accounts. I would lie if I said I didn't question divorce. I never was able to act on it. I would like to say it was because of my moral convictions or because of the covenant we made before God, but at times it was just because we were too lazy to fight anymore. Then a day came late last month, where all hell broke loose. I told Dustin I would NOT leave him, but he needed to know I was NOT happy and I felt I had already "lost" him.

Several hours later, in the wee hours of the morn as it often falls, Dustin came to me. He was teary-eyed. I was teary-eyed. We were depressed. We were stressed. We were overwhelmed. We held each other and promised something to each other to:

 that we would not make the death of our daughter, the death of us.

That is no small promise either. It is estimated upwards of 80-90% of marriages end in divorce after the lose of a child. Reality check! But it a promise we made to each other seven years ago too.
"In sickness and health. In good times and in bad."

Tonight my sweet friend and nurse who helped deliver Claudette sent us me this picture.

I had never realized it before, but she pointed out our hands make a heart.

 

So to my Valentine after 7 years of marriage and over 16 years of being in each others lives, 

thanks for making my heart whole!  

I choose you,

In sickness and health

For better or for worse

Til {our} death do us part.

 

 

 

photo cred: Maggie Bainbridge

Not a Waste

Two days before he died, my husband and I watched Doubt. It was yet another example of how one of Philip Seymour Hoffman's movies can change your perspective on things.

I remember thinking when it was over, how many incredible movies he had made and how many more he would make. Truth be told I thought he was more in his late 50s not 46, but still I thought he had decades left of cinema brilliance.

When I heard the news he had died I was not surprised. He looks washed up and hung-over on the red carpet, so it doesn't take a rocket scientist to deduct he may have been using something.

I also consider him almost genius like. Watching a movie he was in is almost uncomfortable. It is like he transcends the screen and you are actually in the room wherein the scene is taking place. Geniuses are troubled, whether famous or not. So it goes to reason, that often they seek solace, perhaps from their own minds, in substances that numb.

But what I can't seem to get off my mind, is the comment I keep showing up on feeds,

"WHAT A WASTE!"

Perhaps, you have seen it too. Or maybe the less hurtful one,

"He had so yet to give, what a waste of talent."

I get the sentiment I suppose, but what a misguided and frankly hateful comment.

His life was not a waste. He was human being. A human being that was with a person I follow on FB days before at their son's basketball practice. A human being that changed many through his movies. A human being, who was flawed like us all, and ended up with the worst possible outcome because of his choices. A human being whose life mattered just as much as my children's.

Since I have lost a child, I always go right to the mother and what she must be going through. Remember, his mother (the mother with which he wanted us to congratulate for his Oscar) is somewhere mourning. Think of how she sees her son. Think of how you would want one to see your child if they passed, no matter the circumstances.

So let's do what is best to do at these tragic times: learn from his mistakes in his death, but not create our own mistakes by belittling his life.