My Reflection: Its curious how one gets attached so early on. I mean, is it normal to mourn over such a loss as a 2 month pregnancy? It had hardly begun. How have I become attached? I think about it and I come to a few conclusions.
1. I was pregnant at the same time as others. Now I am not and they are--still. I work with one girl. She was showing me her ultrasounds while I was in the midst of losing my baby. In her defense, she didn't know. I decided to keep mum, so as not to ruin her moment of happiness she wanted to share with me. Another girl in my family-married family- is also pregnant. I was due on February 26. She is due on the 2oth. My baby would have been taken a few weeks early by Cesarean. So now when her baby is born, I will know that my baby should already be alive. And every year that I am invited to its birthday party, I will be reminded of how old my child should be. I also work with another girl who is pregnant, but I don't see her much. I was just invited to a baby shower for a girl who used to work with me. I declined and told her the reason. I'M SURROUNDED BY PREGNANCIES!
2. The Lie I lived. Apparently this was not working out from the beginning. Something didn't develop right. It stopped developing around six weeks. I remember one day copying names and their meanings from a name book. The whole time it was already over. I gained weight early on. I did with my last 2 as well, having to wear maternity clothes around 3 months. My clothes were tight already at 2 months! So wearing maternity clothes was pointless--well, not exactly. My regular clothes are still tight. I bought a high chair and two sleeper gowns. For what? All lies! Deciding names=a lie. Wearing maternity clothes= a lie. Baby stuff=a lie. This part makes me so bitter.
3. Seeing babies--especially boys-- make me so sad. I think of what could have been. The smiles, coos, chubby legs and arms I will be missing. And I was so hoping for a boy this time. I had even settled on a name. But I don't even want to utter it, naming what was never....
4. The pity party that I am receiving. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate everyone's care and concern. It makes me feel loved. But at the same time it makes me feel--idk--wrong. I actually told a man today and he acted like no big deal. I appreciated that. He asked me if I was going to try again. I don't know. And he simply said, "You know how you get like that?" I told him I didn't get to ask the doctor. It'll probably happen again, so I'll figure it out. No pity party. Shit happens.
If shit happens, then why I am I so sad?
