The big race

"...baby-making shouldn’t be a race." from the lovely and wise Julie, mom to Jon Evel.

In my head, I know that this true, it shouldn't be a race, it should be about what is right for D.G. and me and even D. But it feels like a race against so many opponents. A race against time because my eggs aren't getting any younger and because the age gap between D and any living siblings keeps growing. A race against fear because now I know how bad things can go in a heartbeat ( or non-heartbeat in my case). A race against bitterness and anger because the pain I feel every time I see someone walking around with the baby/family I thought I would have has to be corroding my internal organs including the reproductive ones. And even a race against the other DBMs because as they start on the path toward a living child, I feel like I am being left behind here in the middle Dead Baby Land all over again.

Every day I feel like I am losing the race by a little bit more. Like the finish line is further away instead of closer.

I feel like I'm stuck in a deep and terrible rut. I am trapped in a lonely and desolate place. I don't know which way I am supposed to go or if there even is any where for me to go. I "know" how I got here, but sometimes it still seems surreal. I am so tired so having to force myself to do things for my daughter of husband. I'm sick not being able to really enjoy anything without thinking about how things should be different.

They really are gone

I have been out of contact with most of the real world for three weeks and not shockingly, only a handful of people have tried to contact me (yes, L, I know I owe you a phone call and I am working up to it). I know I shouldn't be surprised but I am still hurt to see that no one else cares enough to check in a see if I am okay. I have been in Dead Baby Land long enough to know that the loss of friendships is an extra bonus that comes with babyloss. I think that almost all of my friends sent emails and cards when Reid died and I felt very supported, but now, 5 months later, the vast majority of these people have not been heard from since.

I don't think that it should come as a surprise to anyone that someone whose baby died might still need support 5 months later. I also don't think that it would be that hard from some of these people to send an email, they aren't the ones who are broken inside. They have normal lives (and in many cases living babies) to go back to after they make a tiny side trip into Dead Baby Land to check on me. I am the one with the dead baby and the lost dreams and I live in Dead Baby Land full-time. I am not going to drag what's left of me over the edge to Dead Baby Land and try to flag them down as they go about their normal lives. It's time for me to get used to the fact that most people who used to be in my life can't or don't want deal with my loss. Yeah, it's "nice" if they are thinking about me, but that doesn't do shit for me if they aren't willing to brave a little bit of Dead Baby Land to let me know that. It's time for me stop expecting that one day one of these people is going to call me up and ask how I'm doing. It's time for me to stop wasting my time and tears on them. I have made it this far with just the illusion of their support, now it's time to give up the illusion and keep moving on.

"Do you have to go there?"

Yesterday we were sitting outside watching D play with some junk from DH's tool box. She was so proud of her "new tools" and was carefully lining them up on a ledge at the top of her playhouse. I asked her why she didn't use the shelf right at her eye level. She didn't answer but DH said, "She is putting them up where no one else can reach them." I replied, "If only she had someone here that she needed to protect her things from...". DH then said, "Do you have to go there?" and I had to tell him that I don't have to go there, I am there all the time.

I live in Dead Baby Land and the "what-if's", "should-be's" and "I miss Reid's" are all around me all the time. Right now I live right smack in the middle of Dead Baby Land. Maybe someday I'll get to move to the edge or even just come here for visits but I am a citizen for life and there will always be times when I "have to go there".