It's been a while since I posted anything on here. My last posting was actually written several months ago. I don't know why it never made it onto my blog.
I love Gone With the Wind, and the quote that's the title of today's real post has been going through my mind for about three weeks. I feel like I'm due for huge fit of crying.
I thought I was getting farther along in my grieving process. I have been stuck in anger for a while. Every time I go onto Facebook, someone has announced they're pregnant. Or they've just had a baby. Or they're posting pictures of their baby bump. Or pictures of their newborns. One week I logged into Facebook and was greeted with pregnancy announcements three days in a row.
It makes me want to take my lap top, phone, or computer and throw it across the room. Actually, I think I did throw my phone a time or two.
I'm the one that's supposed to be pregnant. I'm the one that should be posting belly pictures. I'm the one who should be in my last trimester and trying not to freak out over labor.
But I'm not.
And now my anger has once again turned into depression. I thought I was past the point of wanting to isolate myself and cry all the time. But things are happening and a few weeks ago the waterworks decided to make an (extended) encore appearance.
It seemed to start about three weeks ago when a friend I had recently reconnected with from elementary school asked me if I was still taking pole lessons. Something told me it would be okay to tell her exactly why I haven't been taking them. It turned out she also had a miscarriage earlier this year. She also lost her mom a few months later. The loss of my own baby girl has taken a huge emotional toll on me; I couldn't imagine losing my mom so soon after as well. That got me down.
Then DH and I got an invite to a baby shower. I've been anticipating it's arrival for several months. The mere thought of it's (and other pregnant friend's invitations) arrival has made me cry. When I showed it to DH I sobbed. There is no way I can go when just the thought of going makes me burst into tears. I don't think I'm strong enough to go and not cry. It's supposed to be a happy day for the mom, and I'm far from being a ray of sunshine.
I guess it makes sense I'm taking a step backwards. (Although, technically, I don't think depression comes before anger in the five states of grief, so maybe, psychologically speaking, I'm actually moving forward.) I mean, I would have been in my third trimester. I'd be having baby showers thrown for me. I'd be organizing baby items and clothes and getting ready for her arrival.
I know six women (co-workers and friends) who've been due to have their babies between last week and the beginning of October. All within decent range of when I was due (September 6). They're six constant reminders of where I would be if DH and I hadn't lost our baby girl.
After the three day stint of pregnancy announcements DH and I went on vacation. It was a more relaxing vacation than I had anticipated it being. But we were visiting his brother and sister-in-law and I'd rather have had a vacation that only involved the two of us. Not because I don't love his brother and sis-in-law, but just because I feel like DH and I need a break away together. Anyway, I refused to log onto Facebook while we were away. And you know what? I was happier because of it. When we got back I decided not to log back into it on my phone. And now I try not to look at anything other than whether or not it's my move in the Scrabble game I have going on with one of my friends. And I only really use it while I'm at work (not productive, but everyone else does it too). I'm totally out of the loop. When we visit MIL, she constantly asks if I saw "so-and-so's" posting on Facebook. I think she got a little frustrated last time I saw her because I constantly answered "No". But I think I'm okay with that because I actually think it's helped me be a little less angry with my 100-some Facebook friends who are pregnant. (Okay, so that's exaggerated a bit. They aren't all pregnant, but it sure as hell seems like it).
Now, if I could only figure out how to work through the baby shower invitation issue, so I don't wan to cry at the thought of being invited and feeling like a bad friend because I don't feel much like showering them with sunshine and happiness, then I'd feel a bit more like myself.
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