Wednesday, April 20, 2011


I have been devoid of all emotion for two and a half weeks now.  I made the trek back up to the third floor of the medical building and saw my doctor again.  I walked into the same waiting area and saw the same secretary behind the same counter.  But this time was different, she didn't smile and ask me how the twins were.  This time, I didn't even have to wait, they ushered me straight to the back.  I guess they thought it was cruel to make me sit in a waiting room with the moms to be.  Or maybe they were scared of what I might say to them.  "Good luck, I hope your baby doesn't die like mine did."  So my husband and I sat and waited for the doctor while next door someone was listening to their baby's heart with the doppler.  I heard my children's hearts beating every two hours for 3 weeks while I was in the hospital, I wish now that I would have recorded the sound.  Its the only sound I ever heard them make.  After a while the doctor came in, did my exam, and asked how I was.  I wanted to lie.  I wanted to say I was okay, grab my purse and run out.  But my husband was there specifically so I couldn't.  Instead, I looked at him and told her I was depressed.  She asked if I had thought about hurting my self and I guess she knew the answer as soon as the tears started streaming down my face.  And then she gave me a prescription for Zoloft and referred me to a therapist.  So, here I am two and a half weeks later, emotionless.  The medicine snaked through my brain, wrapped its silvery threads around my limbic system and constricted, choking off my emotions.  No tears, no sadness, no thoughts of hurting myself, nothing.  Before, thoughts of Alice and Drake equaled an unbearable rush of uncontrollable grief.  As though I was programmed to feel pain everytime I thought of them.  Now, I am reprogrammed.  When I think of them, my brain shuts off, I lose focus, I feel nothing.  It is strange being devoid of emotion, I don't feel human but I can function.  I can go to the grocery store, I can look at babies and pregnant women and feel nothing.  No sadness, no jelousy, no thoughts of what should have been.  I am emotionless and it feels...   

1 comment:

  1. Here from GITW. I'm sorry that you had to hear the sounds of the doppler coming from next door at your doctor's office. I wish I had a recording of my baby's heart too. If I'd known just how little I would have left of her I would have tried to keep every last little scrap.

    I was also prescribed Zoloft very soon after I lost my daughter. I'm not sure if it was responsible for the very strange dissociation that I felt for quite some time after or if that was attributable to the shock and grief that comes with losing a pregnancy and a child unexpectedly. You've described it perfectly, functioning but not quite human.

    I'm sorry for the loss of your beautiful twins, Alice and Drake. It is all still so very recent and raw and I wish I had something, anything to offer by way of advice. Just . . by any means necessary, I suppose. If you feel the Zoloft and the therapy help, grab on to them.