Two of my friends just had babies. One was four days late, the other nine days late. I would never want anything bad to happen to someone else, but at the same time, I can’t stand hearing about them. I can’t stand the reminder that mine didn’t make it but theirs are perfect. It seems like I’m surrounded by perfect babies and perfect pregnancies. I remember the social worker saying that eventually I wouldn’t notice every baby and every pregnant woman. It seems like I notice them more than I did when I was pregnant, and it was already painful enough to see them around me, knowing that they could celebrate their pregnancies and their babies, and everyone wanted me to stay quiet about mine since my baby wasn’t supposed to make it.
I wish there were a nice, not-bitter way of saying, “I’d really rather not hear about your baby right now.” Obviously there isn’t, so I’ll just be tormented until someday it just “gets better.” Whatever that will look like.
The most irritating thing has been the couple of people who have, in one breath, said they were sorry about our baby and then told me they were expecting one. I would like to be happy for them, but I can’t. Not the way they prefaced it. Not the disregard they show for me and for my grief.
I know this just makes me sound bitter, and I probably am to some extent. I wish I could get over it. I just can’t, not right this second. I just want to be away from other people’s children, just for a little bit. Does that make me a bad person? I hope not. I love other people having babies; it just seems to be rubbing salt in the wound at the moment…