Because logically, no one else carries him around with them every day.  No one else remembers that I was supposed to be about to pop at this time.  I mean, in a vague way, I guess they remember that I was pregnant and maybe I should be big or have given birth or something but no one really remembers that it was supposed to be NOW.  Not even my coworker who was complaining to me about why she doesn’t “feel like taking the gestational diabetes test” and is a week late for it.  Finally I got all the information for the nearest Quest off the internet, emailed it to her and told her not make me play the “I wish I could carry a pregnancy this far so I could make this appointment” card.  That seemed to have worked.  We’ll see.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to speak to her again if she doesn’t go for this test.

On February 1st, people will post mundane details of their lives on Facebook.  Someone’s car won’t start.  Or they’ll be enjoying their morning coffee so much they have to post about it.  Or they’ll just post a cool video they saw.  I will want to scream at them. Don’t you know that my baby is dead and today was supposed to be his due date? But how could they know?  Who could remember the due date of a baby that died 17 weeks ago?

I fear that everyone will treat February 1st as a normal day, while for me it will be a day that my heart breaks just a little bit more.

How can I believe something like this? How can I believe any of this is “part of God’s plan” or “God’s will” or “is happening for a reason.”  What reason? Why would God give me a baby – the one thing I’ve been praying so hard for – and then take him from me?  How can anything in the future be more glorious than the baby I was carrying?  And if there is another baby in my future, why couldn’t I have had both.  Why take the life of my little boy?  Why take him before he ever even had a life to live?

What lesson is God trying to teach me?  I have already learned what seems like infinite patience.  I waited four years to conceive.  Four very long years.  My pregnancy was difficult.  I had morning sickness. I had anxiety. I had back aches.  I got into a car accident.  We thought our baby had Down’s.  I bled.  I had a horribly slow start with terrifyingly low hormone levels.  I was grateful for every last second of it.  I would have gone the other 18 weeks. I would have gone 20 weeks more.  I would have been grateful for every second that baby was inside of me and growing and being healthy.  I was miserable at times.  But so grateful.  I would puke and thank God that it meant he was safe.  I sobbed because my back ached so badly (now I realize this was likely a symptom that something was horribly wrong – my preeclampsia was diagnosed a day later and I swelled up like a balloon two days late) but I kept thinking, I can do this for him.  I know patience.  I know suffering for something I love.  What other lesson did I have to learn from his loss?

I often think that I’m being punished.  And I remind myself that God wouldn’t kill a human being he created to punish another human being.  Right?  God couldn’t do that, right?

The worst part of it all is that I want to nest.  I want to clean things up and organize.  I want to sort out the office and our spare room – the room that would have been the nursery.  I have this urge to get the house in order and prepare.  Prepare for what?  There is no baby coming on February 1st.

Despite what my body thinks, I’m not pregnant.  Despite what my mind thinks, there is no baby to nest for.

Instead I try to put my head down and ignore all these things.  And hope that when February 2nd comes around, these feelings will fade.

How do you come to terms with that?

How do I stop hurting?

I know that February 2nd won’t change a thing.  It won’t be the day I stop counting down.  It will probably be the day I start counting up.  He should be one day old, one week, one month.  Will I ever stop counting? Will I always remember how old he should be?  It feels wrong if I don’t.  But if it feels like I’m not healing if I do.

I see and hear his name more and more now.  Is that a sign? Or is it just because I’m more cognizant of his name now? It’s not exactly common. I feel guilty because I still haven’t bought a necklace like I wanted to.  Nothing seems right and if I do find something that I like, my husband doesn’t like it. I know it’s my necklace but I feel like we should agree upon it.  He was our baby.

It’s the year of the dragon this year.  That was a nickname we had for him.  When I first heard that, I thought it was lucky.  I thought he was bringing us luck for this year and maybe that would mean good things for adoption. But then I realize that he should have been born in the year of the dragon. Why couldn’t he bring luck to himself?  I’ve been seeing dragons everywhere, too, by the way.

This isn’t coherent, I know.  I’m not coherent right now. I miss him so much it breaks my heart.  I miss him and the time I didn’t have and never will have with him.  I never got to hold him.  That’s all I keep thinking.  He was mine.  And I never held him.  I barely even felt him move.  Just a few flutters here and there.  I never got any time with him at all.   Just 22 weeks.  That wasn’t enough time.

So now I wait.  I wait two weeks and see.  Will his due date change anything?

So say hello! Leave a comment… and I promise I’ll be back with a real post soon.

Luckily, there were places in the dining room covered in foil to prevent the cat from spraying.  One pile of poop and the blood was on the foil. The other was all over the carpet.  I called the vet.  They suggested I bring him in.  I scrambled to get the dog to the vet.  I put the pile of poop that was on the foil into a Tupperware container and stuck it into a Bath and Body Works bag and brought it with us.  I spent 15 minutes in the waiting room restraining a 63 pound dog who wanted to make friends with every cat, dog, child and adult in the waiting room.  I met with the vet. I got my instructions to feed him a bland diet and give him an antibiotic/anti-inflammatory med twice a day.  I then spent another 15 minutes in the waiting room waiting for the medication to be filled and playing the same game of restraint.

I then drove home with the dog. I then proceed to clean up.  I fully cleaned out the crate.  I steam cleaned the carpet all while trying to keep the dog entertained with a toy instead of playing with his pile of poop.  I took out all the trash so it wouldn’t smell.  Oh and also I was running in and out of the house with him so he could go diarrhea some more.  And finally, I’m waiting for my husband to get home with chicken and rice so I can cook my dog dinner and give him his medication.

So, go ahead, asshole.  I defy you to tell me how maybe I’m just not meant to be a mother.

I’m trying.  It’s not easy to choose joy.  You would think it would be, right?  It seems so easy. Given the choice between joy and sorrow, everyone would choose joy, right?  It’s the obvious logical choice.  But logic has no place in the world of human emotion.  Sorrow sucks you in.  It’s like a whirlpool, difficult to fight.  You start off trying to be happy and making the best of things.  Then a little voice whispers, “You can’t possibly think this will last, can you? It never does.”

Still, you have to try. Right? You have to keep fighting for happiness, right?

It might just be the antidepressants talking, but this weekend, I think I gave it a fair fight. I tried my best to stay positive and to say yes to things instead of locking myself in my house and not coming out.  My husband wanted to go out Thursday night.  Since I had Friday off, I agreed. We went to my favorite Mexican place and had a great night together.  Friday, we stumbled up on reservations to an amazing restaurant in Philly that usually  has a two month wait for weekend reservations.  Someone must have canceled last minute.  It ended up being a fabulous meal and a great night for my husband and me.  It was expensive but fun to get a little dressed up and have a nice night out.

Saturday we rang in the New Year at a friend’s house. It’s been our yearly tradition to spend New Year’s Eve with them.  We haven’t seen them since we lost the baby and it was great to see old friends and reconnect.  We ate great food, had some drinks, played some fun games, and had a great time hanging out and chatting.  Sunday, I slept in and we ran out to the food store to pick up dinner.  We ended up deciding on making a nice steak dinner and somewhere along the way, my husband said should we invite my sister? I told him to call her and see (that whole saying yes thing) and they were free!  It took some extra running around the store (all of a sudden we needed more of everything!) and then a ton of spur of the moment cleaning since my house looked like a bomb hit it.  It was all worth it, though.  We had a fun night and the dinner was delicious.

Monday, we ran a few errands and relaxed. I read my book and took a nap and it was so relaxing to be in my nice clean house (well the downstairs at least).  We made dinner together and it was just the perfect end to the weekend.  I really feel like we were really connected and I felt happy this weekend.  Really happy.  Not the kind of happy where I would feel happy and then feel guilty right afterwards for enjoying life without my baby.  I’m not saying it was perfect.  It wasn’t.  There were moments of sadness.  There were moments of grief.  There moments where I missed him more than I ever have.  But there was happiness there.  I’m hoping there’s more of that in 2012.

–

Note: I’m attributing that quote to F. Scott Fitzgerald but I’ve had a hard time finding out if it’s really his writing.  I’m going with it for now unless someone proves otherwise.

Got pregnant. Stayed overnight in the hospital. Lost a baby.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Not really.  Everything kind of took a backseat to pregnancy and then grief.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My sister-in-law.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

My baby boy.

5. What countries did you visit?

None. Stayed in the good old US of A this year.  We are planning a trip for early next year though.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

For my baby to still be alive.  And for peace.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

May 11th – the day of my IUI that stuck.

May 25th – the day I learned that I was kinda sorta pregnant.

September 12th – the day I learned I was having a boy.

September 27th – the day my baby died.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Living through a loss I never thought I could survive. For so long while we were trying, my husband would say I just hope once you get pregnant, nothing happens and you don’t miscarry because you wouldn’t be able to take it.  Something much worse happened and I took it.  I’m still alive.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Losing him.  I know it wasn’t my fault.  But my body failed him.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Preeclampsia.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Maternity clothes. For a while I thought I’d never wear those and for a little while I did.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Third year in a row: my husband’s.  He never left my side in the hospital. I could not have dealt with any of this without him.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

A friend that didn’t call while I was the hospital and then wondered why I wasn’t responding to the text she wrote me for my birthday.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Mortgage, bills, fertility treatments.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

My pregnancy.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Adele – Rolling in the Deep

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

Sadder, same, same.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Enjoying life instead of living in fear.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying. Stressing. Crying.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Christmas Eve with my family. Christmas Day at my sister-in-law’s.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011?

Yes. All over again with my husband.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

My new favorite this year is Once Upon a Time.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No.

24. What was the best book you read?

Hmmm…. I can’t even remember what I read this year!  Bossypants by Tina Fey and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling were both funny reads.  I know I read a lot when I was on disability but I don’t remember any of it.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Nothing sticks out this year.

26. What did you want and get?

I got pregnant.

27. What did you want and not get?

My baby.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

I have no idea. I don’t even remember what came out this year.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

My yearly dinner at my favorite Mexican place.  33.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Does anyone want to guess my answer to this?

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Comfort.

32. What kept you sane?

My husband.  My family. My friends. My husband. My dog.  My therapist.  My husband.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

No one new this year – same old faves. John Hamm, John Krasinski, Anderson Cooper, Ryan Gosling, etc etc etc

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Who can care about politics right now?

35. Who did you miss?

My baby.  God, this is repetitive.  And I hate that I keep just calling him my baby but I don’t want to share his name here.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

I don’t know.  The nurses at the hospital.  The women at the support group.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.

I have an amazing group of people who love and care about me.  I am lucky to be so loved.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

So can you understand why I want a daughter while I’m still young?  I wanna hold her hand and show her some beauty before this damage is done.  But if it’s too much to ask, if it’s too much to ask, then send me a son. – Arcade Fire

I tried to approach Christmas in this spirit overall.  I tried to be appreciative of all my gifts.  Even if they weren’t exactly what I wanted, I reminded myself that I’m 33 years old and not a child.  I know enough to appreciate the thought behind the gift even if it wasn’t exactly the right thing.  I tried to remain appreciative of the fact that were able to spend time with both our families even though things weren’t done the way I wanted them to be done at either place.  I just tried to go with the flow which is a difficult thing for me to do.

I’m happy Christmas is over.  And I wish I had this entire week off so that I could fast forward to the new year.  I know that it’s not like someone comes along and wipes a slate clean for you.  But I do feel like maybe the new year will provide me with a new start.

While my mother-in-law and sister-in-law were helping me, I was clearing off a place for some decorations.  I had too much in my hands and I was trying to work quickly and I broke my little angel statue.  My mother-in-law had bought it for me after we lost the baby.  It was his statue and I started to sob the minute I saw it heading for the floor.  It was his angel.  I should have been more careful.  Everyone has told me that I can’t be so hard on myself.  That it was just a simple accident and that it was a material thing.  On Christmas, my first gift that I opened was a new angel.   I know that January 1st won’t bring me relief from this kind of pain.  I know that February 1st is going to be hard horrible day for me.  But I feel that 2012 is still filled with the hope of better things to come.

Some days I wonder if it’s possible to choose to live in joy.  There are days when life feels so overwhelming.  The memory of my baby boy. The monotony of wake up, go to work, eat, clean up, watch tv, go to sleep. Over and over.  It feels pointless.  Why bother choosing joy?  Will it really change anything?  Life is full of crappy situations.  People who do want babies but can’t. People that don’t want babies that do have them.  People who have babies that get sick.  People who have no money for Christmas for their family. People who have no money for food or a home.  The world is a shitty place.  Let’s be honest.  Life isn’t fair.  The universe doesn’t pass out gold stars.  You get what you get and not what you deserve.

And yet, people are happy anyway.  There are happy people out there.  People who go through the mall at Christmas time with a smile on their face not caring about the traffic or the crowds.  People who can’t have babies but manage to put on a happy face for a sister or a friend and get through that baby shower because they can’t imagine not being there.  People who have nothing and try to make the best of a situation and manage to stay happy and cheerful for their children.  People who are homeless who are grateful for the women running the soup kitchen so that they have a hot meal.

I’ve been noticing this so much.  Life hands everyone crap.  Some people are happy anyway.  They always say that you shouldn’t be jealous of anyone else because you don’t know what sadness they are coping with.  I used to think that was bull.  I still think it’s a bull in a way. Some people just have easier lives than others.  That’s just the nature of life.  But you don’t know what anyone is going through.  And just because they are happy now, doesn’t mean that they won’t have hard times ahead while you are living your easy times.  I’m trying to remember that.

One of my best friends called to chat.  After I talked to her about my problems and my issues, she said well I have something going on in my life as well.  It’s a bit unexpected.  And I felt sure she was pregnant.  And then she told me that her mother had cancer.  All that kept going around and around in my head in a loop was, “You selfish, selfish bitch.  The most loving and wonderful woman in the world has cancer and here you sit praying that your friend won’t tell you that she is pregnant.”  I would pay a million dollars right now to rewind time and have my friend tell me she is pregnant instead.  Not only does her mother have cancer but they held back on telling me because they didn’t want to burden me with it while I was grieving.  These people are so kind and so wonderful and so generous and I was wishing for her not to be pregnant.  What kind of person does that?

I logged onto Facebook a few weeks ago and saw that a college friend had posted.  I regularly stalk her page to make sure she is not pregnant before me.  She is one of the few people I know that hasn’t had a baby yet and I want to beat her out.  I’m a year older after all. I deserve it.  She was posting to say that her husband had passed away.  She was heartbroken. Her world shattered at the loss of her best friend on earth.  And again, the refrain went in my head.  “You selfish bitch, wondering if she’s pregnant or not.  Her husband is dead.  You lost a baby but she lost her best friend – her anchor.  And you were wishing that she be denied a child because you wanted to be first.”

My life is hard.  I feel like I have more problems than most people.  But I have my husband. I have my health. I have my parents and my in-laws.  I have a home. I have pets.  I have the means to adopt a baby.  I am lucky.  My life is hard. But so is everyone else’s.  If their life isn’t hard now, it doesn’t it mean it wasn’t hard before or it won’t be hard later.

So, I want to make an effort.  I want to choose to live in joy.  I want to make the best of what I have.  I want to choose to be happy for others instead of resenting them for what they have.  Life sucks.  It’s hard for everybody.  But not everybody lets it drown them in sorrow.