i have been doing expensive high-stress things with little time to sort them out if things go wrong.
normally i would be ok about this.
(that's a lie. even normally i would be stressed out by this.)
but today i am insanely anxious about it.
and glad i'm on the pills.
there is a living newborn baby mentioned in the rest of this post. and for that matter someone else's living children. it's ok if you don't want to carry on reading.
last night this post made me cry. my friend caroline talks about how she misses her children being babies. or more, accurately, she talks about how watching Toy Story 3 reminded her to treasure the memories, because children grow up so fast.
me? i miss knowing that i would be a mother to a living child one day. i miss imagining myself cradling a newborn. bre.astfee.ding. taking vids of my child's first tottering steps.
i miss wondering what a combination of me and D would look like.
it's not that i've given up on the dream. far from it. but that idyllic certainty that everything will be ok?
i miss it.
i miss knowing - knowing - i would be a mother. unequivocally. even to the outside world. not just in secret, in my heart, because noone else sees me like that apart from my similarly-shattered internet friends.
i miss the memories i fear will never happen.
and it hurts.
tonight i went round to see my best female friend J. her baby was born on saturday lunchtime. i haven't been able to see her in a long time, and it was so, so good to see her again.
and it was indescribably lovely to hold her five day old baby and hear her little meow-ling cries.
i expected it to be bittersweet. but it wasn't. not the holding her baby part at least.
and it made me wonder.
is it strange that seeing my friend for the first time in five months made me cry, but seeing her newborn baby just brought a smile to my face?
is it odd that i could sit and hear about my friend's baby's birth and not have knives stabbing at my heart?
is it wrong that only eight months after losing my baby i have whole strings of days when i am my old self - cheerful and productive?
is it betraying my baby (or the memory of my baby) that i don't cry for him or her very often these days?
is it indescribably weird that today i don't particularly wish things were different?
(it is, isn't it. that last one is just wrong. i should be wishing i have what she has. i do. but... i can't explain it. it's not like i had a great day. work was stressful. but seeing her baby.... it was just lovely. i couldn't wish to change it. and if my baby were there it would have been different.)
is it wrong that today i'm more sad about the fact that i've not been able to sit in the same room as my friend for five months than the fact that i lost my baby?
i feel like a bad person for even thinking these things.
i hope you all can forgive me.
i do feel that i need to be forgiven for these things.
i'm not sure how to forgive myself.
maybe it will help if you do it for me?
these are rhetorical questions. but i'm still happy to hear any answers you may have.
and if you've read this whole post. thank you.