Still feeling it

A few days ago, I took down our Christmas tree. While taking it down, I remembered putting it up and some of the thoughts I had. Why did they stick in my head? I was still pregnant.

Now? I am not. And I'm expected to be "over" it.

You may be thinking that I don't have to be over it. I'm allowed to still feel the pain of our loss. Our THIRD loss. But you (in general) don't allow me. You don't tell me that to my face. You don't ask me how I am in regards to not being pregnant now or mention the babies that weren't. You don't allow me to cry anymore.

T doesn't. When I mentioned to him that I was pregnant while putting up our Christmas things but not while taking it down, he asked me why it even mattered. He told me that I didn't need to dwell on things like that, to think about things like that.

But I do. I do think about them. I don't know how not to. This last baby was part of me for, what? Three months? Known about for 2? That was my baby. It was my body that couldn't sustain it. It was my body that held the baby after the heart stopped beating. It was my body that felt the pains of 'labor' as I miscarried Thanksgiving evening. It was my body that was operated on the day after Thanksgiving to remove whatever was left. How could I NOT think about it?

People every where we go mention how cute Selah is, which leads to them saying that they (or somebody they know) have a baby close to her age with their second due a few months later. So should we, but we don't. Not any more. People ask if she is our first. When we say yes, if they have more than one, they say to enjoy it because two kids are so much work. Two babies are such a handful. How about this? Less complaining about that and more enjoying it. Or, perhaps, just don't mention it to me right now. Especially if you know what happened. I know this. I WANT this, but it was ripped from me. Can you understand it? I couldn't before, but now I do.

So, if you ask me how I am just as a mere courtesy, I will answer fine. If you ask me out of concern, I will, more than likely, answer fine as well, but look into my eyes. Listen to how I say it. I am not fine, but I'm not allowed to admit it to anyone. Not even my husband.

Simple Questions

Saw this on Teresa's blog and decided it may be a way to waste time fun to fill out. If you do as well, let me know!