Bloggity Blog

I'm not feeling very bloggity today.

Some of the things I want to write about are difficult: the grief of loss; the feeling that true healing will never really come; the feeling in the pit of your stomach when you hear a friend or family member say, "guess what?!" and you know what's coming next. Not because you don't want happiness for your loved one. Or anyone else for that matter. Nobody would wish something as horrible as losing a baby on someone else. Ever.

But that pit-of-the-stomach feeling? To be honest, I still get that sometimes. And I have my sweet baby. But not my first one. Not a day goes by that I don't think of what she would look like. Would she have been chubby like Dorothy? Would she have looked less like me and more like David? Would there not be the feeling of dread instead of excitement at a pregnancy announcement even though I have a baby in my arms now if I hadn't lost her? I knew she couldn't be replaced. So, why am I so surprised that I still have the same feelings popping to the surface?

I remember all too well the first weeks after Kaily was born. The regret over not THINKING enough to ask to see and hold her. The nights that would drag on. Waking up only to remember, 'that's right. I'm not pregnant any more.' Crying so hard, but still feeling like no tears would ever be enough. Screaming at the top of my lungs when nobody was around just to feel like I was doing something with it all. At the time I felt like nobody could understand it. And to tell you the truth, sometimes I still feel that way. Because we all have our own journey even if similar things happen to some of us. We'll NEVER know just exactly how the other person feels.

In talking with someone from church last week, I was floored. I tried not to show my reaction on the outside, but I don't know how successful I was. We were talking about that difficult time last year and how she was praying for me. She proceeded to talk about all the single older ladies that never even got the chance to even try to get pregnant and how at least I had that chance. Not to minimize my pain or anything. I get that. I really do. There is a lot of grief in never having a partner in this life. In going to bed alone every night. In losing the hope of having children. I am blessed and thankful that I'm not in that situation. But there is a dark, dark grief in losing a child that changes a person. I really think that kind of grief is different than losing the idea of having a child (call me naive if you want to). Maybe I am totally off in left field with this one.

Some people it changes for the better. Hopefully, I am one of those people. But there are parts of me that are still envious of people that can just get pregnant and have fun planning and getting things ready. People who can plan their family without thinking how they'll care for their child when they have to lay in bed for 5 months. People who don't have to think of getting their tubes tied after their first or second child because of how taxing a pregnancy could become, especially the thought that there is no guarantee that the next one would go as well as the previous one.

Those people don't have to freak out in their minds about their insurance premiums going up and having to switch insurances because an extra $50 a week isn't in the budget. They would find another Dr. and move on with it. The first thing that went through my mind was "What if I get pregnant?? Who is going to be my doctor? Will they take the same good care of me as Dr. F? Will I lose another child?" Truthfully, I don't even want to get pregnant again if I can't have Dr. F. But how badly I want to be pregnant again, to have another child. I wanted 6 kids before all of this. That dream died hard and fast.

So, can't I at least have one more???

I can't lose another baby.

That's why I'm making diapers......