Much of the same

I obviously haven't had much to say here lately. I am well aware of the broken record type situation I've got going on here.

I guess I will probably end up like countless other bloggers in my situation. Who, once they get their subsequent baby after loss, they disappear in to babyloss blogging oblivion. Because what's more to say? I'm happy and I'm sad. I'm lucky and I'm unlucky. I'm grateful and I'm still mad as hell. I love him and I miss her. And I still love her. But she's never coming back. I wonder if I did disappear, would anyone really care anyway? I'm starting to be bored by my own story, so no doubt many others are also. I'm sure people in my real life are. The number who even ask about Hope or speak her name these days are few and far between.

I do still have lots to say though, but it is finding the time and energy. And having the mental capacity to forum late meaningful sentences that might actually make sense to someone reading.

It has been a rough few weeks. Angus doesn't sleep a great deal, and as a result, we sleep less. But we are soldiering through because that is all we can do. Some days are better than others. The good days are good, the bad days are bad. We are constantly reminded that things will get better and easier.

I also don't have the parenting confidence I once thought I would. I think having a baby die inside of you will do that to you. It sort of eats away at your ability to trust your instincts. That was what also made the pregnancy so hard. I haven't been on my own a great deal with Angus yet. I have had a lot of help from Simon and my Mum. I know I am still technically recovering from birth/major surgery/nine months of hell but I did think I'd be better able to cope. It does make me wonder what it would have been like had Hope lived. I know it would have been a whole lot different to this because I was more ready for her than I was for Angus. I do look at Angus and now have a whole new level of appreciation of what I missed out on, but I do know it wouldn't have been like this. Because I wouldn't have still had this heavy cloud of loss hanging over my head. I wouldn't have felt so sombre deep within. I'm still so desperately changed from Hope dying. As much as Angus has brought joy back in to our lives, I'm still so broken on the inside. I'm a long way from the person I once was and I know without the shadow of a doubt, I'll absolutely never be the same. Not even close.

In the last six weeks, I have had a lot of people refer to me as a first time mother and Angus as my first baby. If I had a dollar for each time someone had said something like that to me, I'd be a bloody rich woman, let me tell you.

It frustrates me to no end, as this is obviously not true and I've run out of energy to correct people all the time. But in a way, it is true. He is the first baby to have emerged from my body alive, come home with me and this is the first time I've done any of these parenting tasks. But I can't really bring myself to ask friends, read books, Google things or speak to any professionals to seek answers. Because I should know the answers to some of these things, because I should have done this before. And I'm well aware I am just being stupidly stubborn.

But even if I do ask a friend for advice or ask them how they managed a particular situation, I still feel like they wont be able to get where I'm coming from or fully understand my predicament, as my situation is forever tarnished by babyloss - and that is something none of my friends understand. Lucky them. I still feel like a freak. I still feel like I don't fit in. I feel an awful long way from a "normal" mum, even when I'm pushing the pram or wearing the sling like all the other "normal" mums out there. I can't imagine how I'm going to handle mother's group when that starts up in the new year. And that's why I think it is so brutal to lose a firstborn. I only ever get to parent after loss. I don't have any glory days of parenting to look back on where I didn't have a dead baby constantly on my mind. I may have skipped having to tell an older child that their younger sibling died, but each day I look at Angus, I think of the day when I'll have to tell him about the baby who came before him. Because that day is coming, and I have absolutely no idea how I am supposed to tackle that. And how will he ever make sense of that?

So we had our first Christmas with Angus and it was a joy. Christmas has always been for kids and to have a kid of our very own to celebrate it with was wonderful.

I just wish his sister was here with us. It is the same old story here.