Ahhh, the holidays are over. I am so grateful that our house has resumed to 'normal.' Normal in the sense that all the Christmas decorations have been tucked neatly back into their storage bins and by January 2nd, our house appeared as if we didn't even celebrate the holidays at all. Technically we did, but then again we didn't. Sure, I was present for each of the festivities and I put on my best so called happy face. I struggle to force a happy face and I don't feel that I should be expected to be happy. For what? The sake of others? Others assume that if I am smiling, I am happy. However, it is quite the opposite. I haven't been happy since early November of 2010. My life was shattered and each and every day I get by. But I'm pregnant again, so all assume that everything is just fine. Those of you whom have lost a child at any point in your pregnancy journey and/or after your child's birth know that life goes on because it does and we go with it, but it is never, ever the same. A new pregnancy brings a different kind of joy, one that is constantly overshadowed by fear and worry. But again, I don't expect those whom have never walked in my shoes to understand that. Ok, maybe I do, but I know that they do not and never will.
Case in point...an acquaintance of mine whom was due the exact same day as I was with Larissa, now has a healthy one year old boy whom was born the day after Larissa silently entered this world. We have been in touch with one another since then as she feels some connection to what I have gone through as her first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 8 weeks. However, she clearly has no idea how I am feeling or what struggles I face daily as she cheerfully sent me an email the day before Christmas eve announcing another pregnancy. She worded it a manner that was a knife in my heart...that she and her husband are expecting a sibling for their perfectly healthy live child. That's nice...but I don't really care. To tell you the truth, I hate any announcement of pregnancy and/or birth of a live child. I can care less that it is so easy for everyone else and she really expects me to jump for joy that she is pregnant the same time as me again?!!!! I cannot help but think that I am going to suffer another fetal demise and she and her husband will give birth to yet another live, healthy child. I wish I can be somewhat happy for them, but I am not. That's the effect of trauma...it transforms you into a person you do not recognize and makes you think and react in ways that one would never think possible.
To add salt to open wounds....my sister announced her pregnancy to me on Christmas day. Really...Christmas day? This pregnancy is different...different because I am happy for my sister and brother-in-law, but am jealous. Jealous that they already have a perfectly healthy 3.5 year old whom I love dearly but imagine Larissa every time I am near her. Jealous that she practically just peed on the stick and feels so confident that nothing could possibly go wrong that everyone and their brother already knows she is expecting again. How nice, expecting again...another child to join your already perfect family. Yes, I am pregnant with another child but I don't have any expectations to bring a live child home. I know nothing but fetal demise. So, yes again, I should be excited for my sister, but I'm really not. I'm mad that it is such an exciting time for her and that joy was taken from me with the death of Larissa, as was any subsequent joy in my life. A few days after she announced her pregnancy to me, she told me how worried she was about my reaction as she didn't want to hurt my feelings. Really? That's why she told me on Christmas day. A day that is so very awful for me already. People really do not understand and never will...she was only thinking about herself because if she was remotely considering me, she would have withheld such information from me for as long as possible. I won't even begin to mention how miserable she was either during her entire pregnancy with my niece because of the weight gain and being uncomfortable. I'm sorry, did I not gain 38 pounds with Larissa to never get the prize at the end of our journey?
So, needless to say I am glad the holidays have come to an end. And I know people expect you to be positive and count your blessing, but I am not going to do that. I will give a shout out to Bobbi Brown gel eyeliner as it did not run, smear or rub off through all the tears that were shed on Christmas eve, day and the days leading up to these days. I am also grateful that I won't have to hear "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year." for yet another year. The person who wrote that song clearly has never lost a child.
Christmas is over and for that I am grateful...there's my little bit of optimism in my otherwise extremely shitty life.
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