I was doing alright trying to remind myself that "things happen" and I left my parents home several times from the age of 17 on, because I didn't like their rules. So I try to tell myself, it's him finding his "adult legs". It still hurts. They never know how much you sacrifice for them so they can be happy. All they see is what you won't let them do to keep them safe and grow them up productive, successful people. I'm not a perfect parent. I make mistakes. Yet, somehow, they need us to be perfect in an overwhelmingly imperfect world.
Then this weekend was a family get together. I was so impressed that everyone came. (pretty sure it was everyone). It was good to get out, even though it felt like I was coming down with a cold. And then, she came up and said, "Hi". I totally forgot she was pregnant. I'll be honest, I'm mentally blocking out all pregnancy photo's, status updates, and newborn photos on my facebook newsfeed. It's the only way I'm not depressed every second of every day. I felt like I got hit by a ton of bricks. I direct hit to my gut. I pushed it back as far as I could. This day was not the "(insert name here) show", this was a happy day. Most of us don't see each other throughout the year. I would not cry, I would celebrate with everyone else. I sat upstairs, I visited, all was good. Then something happened. Maybe it was my weepy daughter, or just the joy of everyone. But I broke. I felt myself run to the washroom. At least I felt like I was running. I locked the door behind me and I cried. I couldn't stop. I couldn't stay in there forever, but I couldn't stop. I should be pregnant too. I should be sharing stories about the excitement coming. (Please don't think I'm not happy for this person. I'm over the moon for her. She's super kind, and totally kept things not all about her cutest bump ever. Seriously, she has a cute baby bump.) It isn't lost on me what a stark contrast it is to the guilt I felt when I discovered I was pregnant. We decided to not have anymore kids, took precausions yet here I was. And I could only think of how this baby should belong to one of the many people I knew who have been trying for years to have children and couldn't. How could I be happy when they weren't? And then in the next minute the baby was gone and I was mad at God and the world at the unfairness of that. Such a roller coaster of emotions I never knew existed. For days and possibly weeks I felt like this thought killed my baby. In weak moments I still do.
I made myself leave the bathroom, with my mostly dried up tears. I tried to keep my head down. Dinner was being served and I felt too sick to eat. My appetite was gone. I sat downstairs in the corner pretending to watch the kids as tears silently ran down my face. It took a bit for it to stop. I wouldn't stop until I relented to the ache that beat so hard against my body to be let out and I let my tears run its course. Once the ache passed the night resumed for me.
Today, I woke up sicker than a dog. But I had a 12hr shift ahead of me. I know some of it was because I was tired, some of it was because I was sick, but mostly it's because Christmas is just around the corner. I began my silent tears that wouldn't stop with an hour left of my shift. My 16yr old won't be around for Christmas for the first time in his entire life. It is heart breaking. I should have also been approximately 24 weeks pregnant at Christmas time.
The remaining ache is me wanting to pass up material gifts, get my son to come home and have my baby back. That is my deepest heart's Christmas Wish. But life doesn't work that way, so I'll keep waiting for the moments and days to get easier.