Brooke of bythebrooke.blogspot.com had yet another exquisitely written post yesterday. It drives home the point that babyloss moms wake up to a new, still earth-shattering, ever devastating reality every day: our baby is gone. Our baby is dead. Our baby was, and now isn’t. And we are expected to just continue with our lives, and that feels like the most bizarre, tortuous reality ever to be inflicted on a person.
My moment yesterday came because all of a sudden about 5 people are newly pregnant at work. When I was pregnant I was the only one at the time. Once again, people around me are optimistically planning baby showers, and life with babies after pregnancy. It fills me up with a silent rage… how can you be SO SURE that your baby will live, when mine didn’t???? I was JUST as sure as you were, afterall!
It makes me feel invisible. It makes me feel like a crazy anomaly in the world. I’m standing right there, afterall, and they refuse to recognize the world I live in… a world where babies die. They are so comfortable in their assumption that nothing bad will happen to them, even in front of me! And I understand why they are. I never assumed I would belong to this miserable club either. I was just as cocky as they were. But I want to shake them when I hear them talking, I want to shout in their faces, “beware! It’s dangerous! Prepare yourself! You’re crazy for thinking you’re safe! I can see the cliff’s edge you’re walking, but you’re careening down it like it’s not even there!”
Of course, it is my former self I want to shake and scream at. I know that deep down. But it doesn’t make it any easier for me to sit and overhear these conversations every single day.