Friday, December 23, 2011

Baby F Memorial Day

Today is the dreaded day. Today marks the one year anniversary, or better yet memorial of our first child's birthday. (I immediately take a moment to rub my face and hide from the fact that I just typed that.) A year. A full year has passed. The memory has not faded, and the hope of being pregnant again to help lessen the blow, has not happened.

Instead I am going to be completely honest with all of you. I hate writing about this. I hate being the one everyone feels bad for. I hate that everyone knows what I am going through, what we are going through. I hate that it's Christmas in 2 days, I have no tree and barely any decorations up. I hate that the 2nd bedroom isn't a nursery, or that my basement isn't over run by toys. I hate when I'm holding my new niece, that no one has the nerve to ask to take her from me. I hate that I wake up at 4:30am, but not to a screaming infant. I hate the looks I get after someone reads a devastating post. I hate that even my closest friends aren't sure if they can ask what's happening in fear of sparking tears. I hate that our Christmas card, which I haven't even sent out yet, doesn't contain a 3rd family member.

But this is my life right now. I'm married, working a full time desk job, trying to get over months of depression. I am focusing on losing the 20lbs I've gained. (Yes, I said 20.) I'm attempting to be a runner and finish a 5k in the Spring. I signed up for a weaving class in a nearby town to hopefully rekindle my love for the arts. I hope with everything that I am, that I can get pregnant, and carry to full term. I hope that if I can't, that we are blessed with adoption. I hope that I can pull myself out of this pit of sadness to remember who I am, and how I want my life to go.

Control the things you can. That's what I plan to do. I could sit here and think that our child would be turning 5 months old, what they would look like, whether or not I'd have some serious bags under my eyes. But I won't. There's things that happen to good people that we can never explain. Things that make absolutely no sense. I hope one day I can come to terms with all that has happened. But for today, I am thankful for those 9 weeks, for the sound of their heartbeat and the image of them on the ultrasound. I am thankful that my husband is still by my side after months of fertility drugs. I'm thankful we were lead to Dr. C. I am thankful for Barbara, our nurse and all her support. I'm thankful to our friends and family always letting us know they support us. I am thankful for all of those who will never have to experience what we have. I am thankful I started writing this for all of you to read. I'm thankful for those of you who have reached out with similar stories.

Today I am thankful for Andrew. Our first son whom I will never forget and look forward to meeting in heaven.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you, Celia, for allowing us into your lives. None of us will ever know what you and your husband are going through. It's your own personal journey. So I'm just going to say, "Peace".