I am taking something harder than I thought really possible. A friend lost her baby at 14 weeks, and didn't find out until the 18th. She is devastated, as is her family, and this isn't the first time. She now has three children waiting for her in heaven. Three. That is a huge number. I barely function some days knowing one at six weeks is waiting for us and it has been a year.
I never use the M word and I haven't even acknowledged that there was a life inside of me at one point, in fact there could very well have been two, I refer to the situation as IVF, either before IVF or after IVF. Even typing these words caused me to find the kleenex. Scarier yet, I haven't been back to the doctor's since. I can't make myself go back to that clinic. I can't make myself call that phone number. I cannot make myself talk about it with someone, even a doctor, that doesn't already know the situation.
And here is the honest truth: Every time I see someone who has that tell tale "pregnancy" belly, I feel like someone kicked me and that they stole my chance for a miracle. Every time I hear of a person conceiving after years of infertility I feel like someone else stole my chance of a miracle and then sent someone to kick me even harder. Neither offers any hope or faith.
I still just love to hear that my friends are expecting though, because I have awesome friends and they want their children. That may sound funny, but there are plenty of people who don't or at least don't want to be pregnant and tell you that much. I always feel so bad when my friends don't even want to tell me that they are pregnant, they can't even enjoy their good news without a feeling bad for me.
And now one of my best and dearest friends, the one who knows the most about me, the one who can always make me feel like I am a gift from God, like I am smart, and pretty , and funny, and caring, and deserving, the friend that always gave more to me than I to her, the one who loves her children more than life itself, who tries to live by example and constantly carries herself with poise and grace is hurting probably worse than I ever knew possible. Why is life like this? I don't want to be reminded of this pain, and I certainly don't want others to feel it.
Her loss isn't about me and yet it has stirred a whole slew of emotions I try very hard to keep in check. Last night I had a nightmare that my friend and I were walking from her church trying to round up all the kids in her huge car and we couldn't find a little one she kept calling Nate. It was really scary. I wonder if she is going to have a funeral for her child, and what she'll name name him or her. I always like the name Nathan - I wonder how that name came in my dream?
I think I need to plan a trip to Iowa.