Tuesday, 12 January 2010

every so often, i catch myself using the word 'lucky' with regard to this whole f****d-up situation - it's lucky that D comes home most lunchtimes and can check i'm ok, or we're lucky that we know it was a chromosome abnormality that's unlikely to repeat - and I want to hurt myself. for saying something so banal. so stupid.

whatever we are, it's not lucky.

if losing this baby was a guarantee that it will be ok next time, that we will get to keep our next child and bring it home safe and warm, i could come to accept it, given time. but there are no guarantees. my chance of miscarriage is the same as it ever was. no more, no less.

i've been spending a lot of time reading here. i'm busy adding sites to google reader all the time, the ones that somehow touch a nerve. one thing that comes through is the longing people have for people to talk about babies that have been lost. and i want that. i want people to remember the baby we lost, not just to worry about me and D and how we are coping. but what is there to say? when someone dies, you can talk about your memories of them. you can laugh about things that happen that they would have loved, or hated. you can ask for stories if you never met them.

what is there to say about a baby who never lived past the thirteenth week of pregnancy? we don't even know if it was a girl or a boy.

the only stories we have are too precious or too painful to share.

i want my friends to remember. in may, when it would have been due. in november, when it will have been a year.

i want them to remember. but i don't want to have to ask them.

i want this to be over now. i want to be back to normal.

i've never wanted to change anything that's happened in my life. i've always wanted to own where i am, who i am. what i choose to be.

but i want this baby back. so badly.

i will be talking about this for quite some time. i'll understand if my usual readers stop reading. this is painful for me, and i don't blame you if you don't want to descend into this dark place with me.

i don't want to be here myself.


pierre l said...

I haven't been commenting because I also have no words. But I am sure that your faithful readers will stay.
I think of you and D often. Many hugs.

trousers said...

As pierre says, I suspect your regular readers will carry on following your words, whether or not we have the words to respond.

Take as long as you need to take to deal with this: not a moment more, not a moment less.

B said...

thanks. thank you.

Jorgelina said...

B, I agree with Pierre and Trousers, I'm at a loss for words, really, but I feel for you and D and will continue reading whatever you need to write about.
We, your readers are keeping you company on these tough times, even if silently.
Sending you my love.