I'm not sure how to say what I want to say without A) hurting someone's feelings and B) sounding like a bitter, jealous and all-around horrible human being. So I guess I'll start by saying that if you are not a Babylost Mama, you will probably not understand how hard these feelings are--so please don't read this. I would hate for you to think less of me.
For those of you who are still reading, I need to say that the person I'm talking about is such a dear, dear friend. In the months after Sophie died, she was my lifeline. She was the one who always knew exactly how to put my feelings into words--not just because she is a gifted writer, but because she also lost a daughter. I'm hoping she will forgive me.
This dear friend of mine, this woman who is also babylost, this woman who was my lifeline for so long, has birthed a baby--her fourth--and it is a girl. A beautiful, healthy, very hard to come by, wonderfully loved little girl. And the awful part about it is that when I heard the news, I felt a pang of jealousy. A girl. She got a girl. How ridiculous is it that instead of overwhelming happiness (which, for the record, I also feel), I felt this little twinge of sadness?? I mean, here I am cuddling and nursing the most fantastic miracle of my own making, a little boy, and I'm jealous of this baby girl? How does that work?
Sophie died in January of 2007. In October of 2007 I was pregnant again--that lasted 10 weeks and ended in December of 2007. In April of 2008 I was pregnant. That lasted until May 13th. When I found out I was pregnant in June of 2008, the only thing I felt was fear--not joy, not hope, not excitement--fear. Fear and anxiety. Fun stuff. And who was there for me? Who else. And do you know, I kept telling her that I needed this baby I was carrying to be a boy. I needed it to be a boy so that it would be completely different from Sophie--completely different so that maybe, just maybe, I would get a living baby out of it. And it was, and he is. A wonderful, miraculous, loving, happy, amazingly alive baby boy. I can't even begin to describe the amazing place he has in our family and the amount of healing he as brought to our hearts. I never wanted anyone but him. Never.
But a girl...a little baby girl. And it isn't even like I've never gotten a living girl--I have two of those myself. But what it comes down to is this gut-wrenching feeling of longing for what you can't have. As my friend snuggles, nurses and hugs this new little girl, you can bet she is thinking about the sister this baby will never know. As I watch her holding a baby girl, I'm thinking about the baby girl I never got to hold. And yes, I recognize that my friend has these pangs of jealousy every time I mention my happy, wonderful, energetic 6.5 year-old who is mere months older than her lost baby girl would be now. See? It hurts all around.
My husband and I are pretty sure we are done having kids. The anxiety, the pain of loss, the fear...it is just too much to do again. So that means that every baby girl that I know of from now on will bring on this pang of jealousy and sadness...this desire to get back that which I will never get back. Because the truth is that I could have another child, I could have 10 more children, all girls, and they would never, never, bring back what I lost. And that is just how it is.
Are you babylost? Do you understand what I mean? I hope it doesn't sound like I'm taking away anything at all from this new little life and I equally hope it doesn't sound like I'm taking anything away from the love I have for my own little boy. Let me know.