Flashbacks

I went for my six week check up today by myself. I haven't gone to an appointment alone since January. These past six months I was either in need of a driver or Kevin wanted to be there for support. Today I was all alone, and as I sat on the exam table waiting for my doctor my mind started racing. In the room next to me I could hear a mother hooked up to a fetal monitor. The sounds of the constant baby's heartbeat swept me away to another time and place. While in the hospital I waited for that sweet sound three times a day and then twice a week after I came home. The reassurance of life. I became so familiar with the song Tobin's heart sang, the fast beats of my baby's heart. I heard the doctor reassure this mother that everything looked good and I could hear the nervousness in her voice. I wanted to go and hold her hand. I know those fears so intimately. I know what it's like to have a fetal monitor bring you joy and I also know it can break your heart. Every time I was monitored I was scared to have my heart broken again. Every. Single. Time.

It was a long wait today, so there was plenty of time to have flashbacks. I heard the ultrasound technicians voice and again was flooded with a memory. The only time I went for an ultrasound by myself was about a month after I had Koen. There was no reason to eagerly anticipate the appointment, no need for Kevin to come with me. I was going to have my empty uterus examined, because I was suffering from cramping. While laying on the ultrasound table that day I stared at the wall with tears continually streaming down my face. The visual of my vacant womb made it so heartbreakingly real.

When I started counseling eight months after Koen's death, we discussed PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. Mayo Clinic defines it as "a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event."  In the past I typically associated PTSD with war or tragic car accidents. Until she mentioned it, it never occurred to me that I was, and obviously still am, experiencing PTSD. Koen's death, and being part of it, experiencing it, feeling it, watching it ... was the most terrifying event of my life.


*** So maybe my blogging days about my feelings and experiences aren't over just yet.  Silly me, I was hoping to move past some of these feelings now, but things don't just get wrapped in a perfect package with a pretty bow that easily.  It is a process, a lifelong process. ***