Harder than you think

Let me say from the outset that for the most part, I am loving being pregnant again. I count my blessings each and every day for the new life that fills me because I truly realise how lucky I am. I have youth, good health and boundless fertility it would seem. And on top of all that, another easy and healthy pregnancy to boot.

But make no mistake about it: this is hard. And not that I necessarily thought it would be, but it is hardly a cure-all for the ravages of grief after babyloss. In fact I'm sure the hormones and the fear just exacerbate the situation.

I am finding as the pregnancy progresses, I am feeling more and more alone. More and more isolated from people in my real life, who through no fault of their own, just have no freakin' idea how hard this is. And more and more isolated in this new little corner of the universe I have carved out for myself, as so many struggle and fail to get where I am. And I am so sorry for that, I really, really am. Readers and commenters have dropped off. That's ok, I get it. I now worry myself about leaving comments at so many other places, for fear of upsetting people. I feel like I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. I want to let people know I'm here and I care, but I also don't want to unintentionally upset anyone. I don't know what to do. There is no rule book on this stuff. I am flying totally blind here and just hoping I can be gentle along the way.

A few are starting to mention in blogland now, that they feel comments and emails can get a bit clumsy. Things can be misinterpreted or taken out of context. Someone might not fully understand the point you are trying to make - but rest assured, when I leave a comment or email you, I do care. A lot. And I'm sorry if I ever upset you. I didn't mean it. The last thing I want to do is upset another fragile babyloss mum. I know how fragile I am myself. I know how easily I can be accidentally upset by what would seem like an innocent comment.

I do feel lucky that I'm building up a small army of supporters in this babylost world who are pregnant with me, and all sharing the same anxiety and fears. And of course, they share the same hopes and dreams for the future as well. Because the odds still remain in our favour that things will work out this time around.

But for the most part, I am feeling very alone. And nine months is starting to feel like a very, very long time. I may as well be due in November 2013. That's how far away this coming November feels right now.

I knew a second pregnancy would make me feel better, give me reason to go on and get up each day and renew my HOPE, but it is still hard. People who aren't here yet and who are desperately trying to be - please know I want nothing more than to hear your good news in the next weeks or months. Or years, if that's how long it takes. But also know this is no walk in the park. Grief is isolating, but I think pregnancy after loss in a way can be worse. Because I feel as if I'm supposed to shut up with my whinging now, count my blessings, be happy for what I've got and look on the bright side but damn it, sometimes I just want to stamp my feet at the unfairness of all of this. I have still buried a daughter. A daughter who just up and died inside of me as she was trying to be born, four days past her due date. I have no point in this pregnancy where I will feel safe. There is no magical marker I am trying to get past. As Sarah recently said, I am not just scared of what happened to Hope happening again, I am scared of it all. Babyloss has forced my eyes wide open. I know too much now. Even as I clear all my hurdles with ease with this new boy, I am still worried about the shit hitting the fan all over again. Either the same thing, or some whacky new catastrophe.

And while my new pregnancy and ever-growing son has made it a bit easier for me to function in the world again, in that I can go out from time to time, go grocery shopping and take walks through my neighbourhood, it doesn't take away that deep stabbing pain I feel in my heart each time I see a tiny baby, happy family or glowing pregnant woman. I still seethe with rage and jealousy that I am not her. That I got this life and not that life. I'm still jealous of her, even though on appearances, I have what she has.

I can't apologise for where I am or how I got here. It is what it is. I am still sad for everyone who has been through this but I am also happy for me. And I'm allowed to be happy for me, as this is truly a wonderful thing I am lucky enough to be going through again. It just isn't as it should be and it isn't what I had planned. Somehow, I am trying to make the best of a very, very shitty situation though. And I think for the most part, I'm doing a damn fine job.

So I just want to say this is hard. Harder than you think. And I am still sad. I now have renewed happiness and hope yes, but I am still sad. I am still sad.