Back to Work

Monday was the day of days. It was the first day back to work since we lost Astrid. "Dread" is a good word to describe what I was feeling about going back that day. I expected it to be pretty terrible, and it lived up to that expectation. My work environment is office work. I'm surround by about 100 people during the day by people that work under me and over me. The leadership team that I'm a part of (and relatively close to) has about 20 people.  Before the loss, I was one of those people that was no stranger to visitors at my desk. It was relatively commonplace to have people stopping by and chatting about the pregnancy or about work or about anything really. My therapist assumed in this kind of environment that I would be overwhelmed with the people coming to me and asking me how I was and asking where I was and asking and asking and asking...

Instead, what I got was something much different. I felt like I was being avoided like I had the plague. The few that didn't avoid me talked to me about work as though I hadn't been gone or like I had been gone on some sort of 4 week vacation. And it's not like everyone didn't know. I made it a point to tell the people at work that I'm close to that the loss of my baby wasn't a secret. I couldn't stomach the thought of being happily asked, "Where ya been?" or "How's the baby?"

Anyway, so Monday was hard. Out of all those people I work with, there were 3 people that straight out verbally acknowledged that I was pregnant and that I wasn't anymore. One of the women I work with--god I give her SO much credit for this--came up to me while I was eating my lunch, sat down, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, "Jennifer, I'm so sorry." Of course, I immediately started crying. Partly because it was the first person there to come out and say it to my face. Mostly what I got the rest of the day were extremely cautious and extremely generic How-are-You's as I was walking by people. 

There was a card on my desk too when I arrived. It was a Thinking-of-You card. Inside everyone wrote something, but no one mentioned the loss. It was all, "Welcome back." I don't want anyone to misunderstand why I'm telling you this. It's not that I'm being unappreciative of what they were trying to do. I'm writing it because I want people to realize how much people avoid talking about loss. No one wants to say it. The avoidance game they were all playing isn't because I work with a bunch of assholes. It was because they thought that giving me space was what I needed. To an extent, they're right. But not to the extent that it was happening.  I told my husband while we were in bed on Tuesday night that I felt lonely at work. In a sea of that many people, I felt completely alone. He asked if I felt more alone at work than I did when I was home alone in the bedroom with the door shut. I let him know that I really did. I spent about 2 hours that night crying to him that I didn't want to go back. 

I've mentioned previously that it takes a lot for me to get truly close to people on my end. Typically people feel closer to me than I do to them. I do have one dear friend at work though, where that's not the case. People make jokes about having their "work wives" and "work husbands". He and I are more like "work brother and sister." If our birthdays were the same, I would assume we were separated at birth. I had mentioned to him the conversation that James and I had the night before. There were two things he could have done with that information. One being to just keep it to himself and to feel bad for me. But that's not what he chose. A little while after I had told my friend how I was feeling, one of our coworkers came to my cube and asked me how I was doing and said he was sorry for the loss. He told me that the leadership team was all aware of what happened but no one wanted to upset me or make me more sad. No one knew what they should do. Being an honest person, I let him know that, first of all, I completely get that and I can't imagine the position my work-peers must be in. However, there is nothing that anyone could say that would make me more sad than I've already been the last four weeks. We talked a little more after that about things. It was a brief conversation, but it was the acknowledgement I needed. I sent him an instant message after that just said "Thank you." He let me know that I had really helped him understand what things are like at my end. After this, I realized I had someone else to thank for this acknowledgement and conversation. 

It occurred to me that it was my friend that told our coworker to come talk to me. It was a daring move, but it was the right one. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a true friend. Because he chose to take what I told him and use it instead of keeping it to himself, I had a better day. It was that conversation that I had with our coworker that lifted some of the fog that I had been walking around in for the past two days. Today is my regular day off, and because of yesterday I don't feel a sense of dread about going back to work tomorrow. 

I hate that I'm going through this. My heart aches for my Astrid. I love her and miss her more than I can communicate in words. But I've been learning a lot. I've learned about the kindness of strangers. I've learned what not to do or say. I've learned about true friendship. I still have a very long way to go toward healing. I've still got a lot of grief to deal with. I'm just glad that I'm not drowning.