I am finding this week harder than I thought I would. I’m facing a due date today I really thought would bring a real live baby. This week is when we were meant to meet Sweetpea #5, a little boy. I regret so much not naming or even nicknaming him. It is hard to refer to him as a nameless number.
The other due dates were freaking hard, don’t get me wrong. The first was a killer. But #5 was the one we thought would make it. The one that made it the furthest. The one that defied all our RPL issues. The one we invested so much in emotionally, physically, financially. This is the one that finally broke me.
I had envisaged feeling sad this week and needing to spend some time alone but I feel broken. No matter what exciting stuff is happening right now with Nacho I feel overwhelming grief and sadness too. Concurrent conflicting emotions.
I think the reason why this is so hard is because this week signifies the loss a baby boy but also so much more.
This was the loss that resulted in my diving off the deep end. I had just about managed to keep my shit together after the first four. Life was tough but I somehow found a way to get through my day like a normal functioning human being, not the zombie I am now. I was able continue to see friends, I held down a challenging job, I could function day to day although I was hurting a lot. I realise now I was in serious denial.
But as we lost him I lost myself. I fell off the virtual cliff of normality. I could no longer face life or pretend any longer. I couldn’t face anyone or anything. I stopped communicating. With everyone. I stopped going out, I could barely function at work, I was lucky if I got out of bed. It was the beginning of the self-inflicted loneliness that I live in now.
I keep thinking about our alternative life that could have been. The one where I would get to take home a baby this week. The one where I maintained my calm. Where all the sadness has ended. Where I continue to live my usual life. Where I meet up with my five mates all expecting in the next six weeks. The happy life. The life of balance and optimism. Why do I do this to myself?
So I guess today I’m grieving the loss of a little boy. I’m grieving the loss of the old me. My old life, my friends, my best friend. My naivety, my confidence, my energy, my lust for life. My belief in myself.
Did I tell you last weekend was the baby shower of The Sweet Pea Thief. Remember her? Yeah. She’s due in a couple weeks. I wasn’t invited to her shower and I’m ok with that. Ok it stung a little. I would have liked to have been invited so I could decline it but really I haven’t spoken with her in almost 6 months so why would I be invited. But the thought of her and all my old friends celebrating the arrival of her baby fills my heart with sadness. No one is here holding my hand as I cry alone about the loss of mine. No one remembers the ones we lose except us.
Sigh. That loss inspired this blog. Letting the heartache pour out into cyberspace has been more cathartic than I ever had imagined and I realise now that it had to happen that way or I would have imploded.
So in many ways I’m thankful for this experience. I’m thankful that I finally found a way to put myself first, to do what I need to do. To simplify my life. To connect with others enduring a similar hell. To remind myself that actually nothing else is that important.
But this particular loss has also made me acknowledge my complete and utter desperation for little Nacho. I can’t face another loss. Period. I bonded with #5. I spoke to him everyday, wrote letters to him, kept him warm. I believed so hard that our love was strong enough to keep him safe. But it wasn’t. Nothing was.
And now my fear of losing Nacho is overshadowing my ability to bond with him/her. I hope that if we get to surpass the point where we lost #5 that I’ll begin to breathe easier. I feel guilty dwelling on the past, on what was lost, and not focusing wholeheartedly on the future but I also feel like I haven’t fully grieved yet and I need to allow that to happen.
I hope Nacho isn’t upset with me. I hope one day to be able to explain to him/her why this week will probably be hard forever. I feel like Nacho already understands and is trying to make life extra easy for us by blasting ahead so courageously. It has helped already so much. I see how hope can be the lighthouse in the stormiest of waters.