Sunday, June 16, 2013

To be happy for another.

My friend is due in about two weeks. She had an early miscarriage last year, right after I lost Eli. The baby had died in utero at around six weeks (kind of like what I just went through). So when she got pregnant again, I was very happy for her. Then I got pregnant again and we were happy for each other.  And then I lost the baby when I should have been 9 weeks. Nonetheless, we have been each others support system. She understands what I am going through and I understand her, too.

Her mom asked me to help with her baby shower. At first, I was a little uncertain. I had offered to help before I lost this last pregnancy, but now that I had just gone through it again, I didn't know if I could. I have spent the last three years avoiding baby showers. It is just too much to be around all that celebration, all of the happy people. All of the gifts, the games, the decorations. All of these things I never have gotten to experience. Well, to my surprise, she decided to have it at a local restaurant. And my friend didn't want to play any of those cheesy games. Just generic ones, like What's in your Purse, etc. I decided that since it wasn't too in-your-face-baby, I could handle it. I printed off a game and went. And it wasn't so bad. It was mostly socializing. I felt like a bad friend because I couldn't bear to buy her anything (I avoid the baby aisles at the stores), but I got her a target gift card instead. I knew she still loved it but I wished that I could have bought her some cute onesies, or pacifiers, or something... Honestly, the hardest part was the awkward conversations of women who have kids relating to one another. I had nothing to say. Nothing to chime in. No experiences like theirs to add to the conversation. No pieces of advice or funny stories to share. I can tell you all about labor, but not what it's like to bring a baby home in your arms. 

In other news, my husband and I had a conversation the other night. After a few beers, I got up the courage to bring up ttc again. I asked him how he felt about trying again after our vacation in September. He said he was for it, but I can tell he is feeling a little cautious. He told me he doesn't want to give up, especially after we went through surgery to get the TAC. But he doesn't want to lose anymore. I will never know exactly why my last pregnancy failed so early on, but I know it was not cervix related like my last. I feel like if we were to try again it would end up better. But I'm still terrified. 

I honestly don't know how I still function day to day. How I can still laugh, smile or even get out of bed. How do I go to work each day and come home and do normal things like cook a meal or do the dishes? It's like I'm on this autopilot mode. I know I have to keep doing these things or I'll just do nothing. And I'll feel more miserable than I already do. So why make it worse by wallowing in it, I guess? I really do wonder. Grief is a heavy, unpredictable thing. It has no set pattern and can come and go quickly. It's like I've just learned how to live with it, like one learns how to live with a severed limb. A part of you that was once there, is now gone. Forever. And there is nothing you can possibly do to bring it back. Something inside of you says, "okay, this is our life now. This is our new normal. We have to get through this and we will." But how? How do you do this? You just do. I get up. I shower. I brush my teeth and I work. I come home and I make dinner and I hang out with people like everything is just fine. It's like your brain glosses it all over for you. Blocks it out. Until something triggers it and then bam, you're right back in that delivery room, recovering from the loss of your child that you'll never get to watch grow up. You'll never get to know. 

1 comment:

  1. I nominated you for the rose of kindness award:
    http://mylovelosslife.wordpress.com/2013/06/20/rose-of-kindness-award/

    ReplyDelete