I don't think I have responded to a theme or maybe I did one time with another blog. For some reason, I missed out on still life with circles blog until I dropped by out of curiosity. I was attracted to its posts and especially the topic. The shared topic is just like the title says, right where we are from the beginning of grief. As I ponder upon this, I also remember today also happened to be the very FIRST BFP I ever had and that was my precious little girl, Josephine (Joey) - June 4, 2009. I am not good at remembering dates but my husband is.... so he remembered. He talked about what it would've felt like to walk down the aisle with Joey as we watched "The Father of the Bride" yesterday. He woke up this morning playing with our little dog on our bed and he thought about what it would be like to have his Joey wake him up in the morning. She would be 19 months old.... I'm so out of the loop with babies' developmental stages but I am assuming she would've been walking and saying some words or phrases. Every time I miss her, I imagine myself just holding her so tight...
The healing process would have been different if we had our rainbow baby by now. I think about where I would be if my life went differently. Where would I be if the miscarried baby could've made it to the due date of this month. No, I don't think I would've ever forgotten my daughter or stopped grieving. I think I feel more pain because of this infertility struggle. It is quite potent when you mix infertility and grief. It stings a little more every time you miscarry like I did back in November. Facebook has been the worst enemy. I feel a stab at my heart's desire and brokenness every time I see a picture of someone's newborn on FB. Trust me, I have stopped reading many newsfeeds but it finds a way to pop up through someone else's comments. "Deactivate" has been the best way to go.
My hubby and I have isolated ourselves from many friends or acquaintances. Why? Most of them have kids and what else is there to talk about with others besides their children. John's coworkers are getting pregnant and I feel increasingly "left behind." This burden of feeling "left behind" has never left me since the early years of infertility.... I thought I would become immune to pregnancy news, pregnant friends, pregnant strangers, pregnancy commercials, etcetera, etcetera one of these days.... But no, it doesn't just simply vanish and go away.
Four and a half years of TTC, sometimes I just say five years, I recall the summers of avoiding church activities or vacations thinking I would get pregnant "this month." Were those long summers just wasted? So here I am trying to be normal again as I feel ready to hang out with others. They will get to know the masked version of John and I if they don't know our story. We need friendships but not just any kind of friendships. We need friends who accept us where we are emotionally, who don't preach, or offer unsolicited advice. My defenses are still high due to some negative comments from the past. I am afraid to be transparent with those who never walked through infertility or loss because too often I would hear things I don't want to hear. Our social life has slowed down quite a bit. Will this all be turned around just because we have kids in the future? Maybe; maybe not.
By now, I have processed my guilt and have come into acceptance that Joey is not coming back. I wish I had all the medical answers I do now back in 2009. I also bounce to the stage of shock once in a while; I ask myself "Did I really lose my daughter and a miscarried baby?" It's surreal. It's unfathomable. I long for Joey but this year I find myself smiling more than crying at her cute footprint in my living room. Bottom line is I am at a place where I long to hold Joey in my arms and where I yearn to have rainbow children soon. I have one foot in the past and one foot in the future.