Not ready to be brave

I tried to be brave today. I had to return the maternity coat I borrowed from my cousin's wife last winter. I'm sure she has friends who are pregnant and could use it soon.(It's almost October and in Northern AB that means you could need a coat at anytime with next to no notice). I got the coat in February because her son arrived 4 weeks early so she didn't need it. I was outgrowing even my husband's coats and had at least another month of winter and pregnancy left to go. Of course now she has a healthy 7 1/2 month old and I have 6 months of grief.

So I spent all morning psyching myself up to go to their house and drop off the coat. And I get there all prepared to say hi, handover the coat and run before I had to see more that a glance of the baby, and of course, no one was home. I don't remember the last time I was so relieved. And that tells me I wasn't ready to be brave.

Things you never want to tell your MIL

The next week and a bit is going to be jam-packed, with some good things and some not so great things. On Saturday we are going to the local Walk to Remember. It won't be an easy afternoon but I am still looking forward to it and it will be the first memorial event that I have felt was appropriate for D to come to with us. Then as soon as we get back, my MIL will be arriving (this is not so great, but I would never tell her). Just being around my MIL stresses me out for many reasons. I am not looking forward to this visit as she basically just announced she was coming (and no other weekends worked for her) without really asking if it was a good weekend for us. I don't think she has a clue that it is 6 months on Sunday. That brings me to Reid's 6 month anniversary on Sunday, which the Walk to Remember saves me from having to think of a way to commemorate. And to add to the fun, next Wednesday is D.G.'s and my 9th wedding anniversary (I literally just realized that tomorrow will be 14 years since we got together, holy crap). Neither one of us really feels like celebrating anything these days and there is a distinct lack of babysitters here. The only night that the MIL could watch D is on Reid's 6 month anniversary on Sunday and I am NOT celebrating my anniversary then. I told D.G. on the weekend that we should get U2 tickets for the concert here next June. I might feel up to going out in public again by then and since it's only 8 months away, we won't have a baby by then no matter what. ( Even if we get pregnant soon, I am not afraid of pre-term labour, just miscarriage, stillbirth and full term death, that seems reasonable right?)

Which brings me back to the blog title. There's one more thing happening in the next week. I should ovulate about a week from now. My MIL wanted to stay from Saturday until next Tuesday. The guest bedroom is directly below our bedroom and we have hardwood floors and a somewhat squeaky bed. Do you see my problem? What man wants to try to get his wife knocked up with his mom sleeping 10 feet away? Okay, don't answer that because there probably is someone that messed up out there. I told D.G. that he had 2 choices, DTD with his mom there or let me tell her she has to leave for her sister's sooner than planned if she wants another grandchild because I wasn't going to skip trying this month. To my surprise, he told her himself, but it doesn't change the fact the my MIL knows way too much about my sex life.

P.S. Thanks to the three five lovely ladies who gave me an award in the last few days. It means a lot to me that you are out there reading my blog. Now my problem is that I think nearly every blog I read has already been nominated because I am so slow moving these days. Please don't think badly of me, I was terrible with these kind of things before my brain got scrambled.

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.

Some lovely realizations (yes I am being sarcastic)

This morning I realized a few things:

- People who started ttc at the same time we started (Jan. 2009) have almost 1 year olds right now. Heck, I bet some of them are trying for another baby by now.

- People who managed to conceive 1 year after we started (no matter how long it took) are about to have their babies.

- If we had not conceived Reid, by January 2010, we would have been able to get medical help to conceive and could right now be pregnant with a lovely baby who might live past birth.

I love Reid, but if someone told me that I could have spent an extra 6 months unsucessfully ttc versus 6 months mourning a dead child, I know which I would pick. TTC is an awful kind of slow torture, but to me it's not as bad as having 9 months of hopes and dreams literally turned into ashes.

So now it's Fall

How has the changing of seasons (from summer to fall) impacted you in your grief journey? ( for the Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope September writing challenge)

There are still 2 more days until the official start of fall, but here it has looked a felt like fall for almost a month. Fall will be my third season without Reid and most of all it brings a feeling of disappointment. Spring was blurred by pain, both physical and emotional. Summer came and brought some hope that I could survive here in Dead Baby Land. It also brought the hope for another child and warm, sunny days spent with D. Summer is over and I am still surviving, but it disappointed on the other 2 fronts. This summer was cold and damp and rainy. (It's not just my perception, there were rainfall records set all over AB and SK this summer). The majority of my garden didn't have enough sunshine and warmth to mature and be ready for harvest. I was holding out hope that Indian Summer would come along soon and save the garden but it was wiped out by frost this past week. The same way that the hope that I could be pregnant before fall came was destroyed.

This time last year, we were getting ready to tell the world that we were finally expecting our second child. Now looking ahead, all I see are reminders of what we had and who we were last year. Another series of disappointments in the form of unfulfilled plans and dreams.

Yesterday, I emailed the MIL to ask her to include Reid in the history book article. D.G. was sitting beside me as I wrote the email and he was not upset or bothered so I guess he really was "OK" as long as I took care of it. She replied right away that she would include Reid, but I knew she would do what ever we wanted, that wasn't the issue. Thanks to all of you for your comments and support.