Baby Shower

I went to that baby shower this afternoon.  Through most of it I felt fine.  I forced myself not to think about my losses and to focus on the joy of the occasion.  And it was joyous.  But then while she was opening her gifts, it got harder.  Seeing all those adorable little things-- the tiny diapers, the sweet little onesies-- started to break my heart a little bit again.  I felt tears spring to my eyes and my heart start to race.  I just had to push all that aside for the time being.  But I finally let myself cry once I got to the car.  And then I just broke down.  Bawling.  I got home and laid down in the room that we'd always planned would be a baby's room and just cried and cried.  I gave myself permission to just let go and cry, to feel the feelings instead of pushing them away like I do so often.  I let myself feel sorry for myself.  I cried for what I've lost.  I cried for my babies.  I'm so very sad they could not live, that my body could not hold on to them.

I'm glad I'm not feeling this way on a daily basis anymore.  I'm glad I've been feeling good enough that I could even go to this shower.  I had been asking Shannon if he knew if someone was going to throw a shower for her and he said I should if I was so worried about.  No way.  I knew I was feeling okay enough to go to a shower, but not at all ready to throw one.  And that's sad too.  Sad that I even have to think about these things.

I remember when Shannon told me that these friends had found out they were pregnant.  It was just a few days after loss #3 and I was sitting on the couch.  I had just said I was feeling okay when he tells me about their brand-new pregnancy.  I completely lost it, broke down crying for the longest time.  I know he thought it would be happy news to share, but I could not even begin to see past my own grief yet.  Then a couple of weeks later, a post on Facebook from these friends with an ultrasound picture of their little one and a due date.  Ten days after I would have been due.  Ten days!  That date is quickly approaching.  Seeing how pregnant she was today definitely made me sad that I'm missing out on that experience.

I think this is the first baby shower I've been to since our I started having pregnancy losses.  I did go to one right before I got pregnant with #1, but haven't been able to since then.  I got an invitation to one as we were going to the hospital for my surgery to remove the ectopic.  For some reason, I went to check the mail before we left and opened it in the car, as we were backing out of the driveway to have our first precious baby taken away.  Needless to say, I did not go to this shower.  Could not even bring myself to call to say I couldn't go.  Never apologized to that friend for missing it.  I remember the first time I saw that baby, I had to stand on the opposite side of the room and try not to look at it.  It was such a painful reminder of what I have just lost.

I take it back.  I did go to my stepsister's baby shower last year.  That baby was born just a couple of weeks before #2 would have been due.  That shower was difficult.  I had to stand in the kitchen much of the time, avoiding the celebration.  There were tons of babies all over the shower and right before she opened presents so many of her pregnant or new mom friends got up and gave speeches about how amazing motherhood was going to be for my stepsister.  Looking back now, I'm not really sure how I made it through that one...

With each of my losses, there's been a friend or relative's baby that was born around the time mine should have been.  And now when I see those babies, it's definitely bittersweet.  I remember getting this announcement with sweet pictures of my stepsister's baby and just bawling my eyes out at the kitchen table.  I thought Shannon was still sleeping and didn't want to cry in front of him, but then he appeared behind me and was so sweet about it all.  And this new baby will be the same.  Hopefully I'll be able to celebrate in their joy too when he arrives, but it will still be a reminder of what we've lost.  They'll go home from the hospital with their precious bundle of joy and all I've ever left with is emptiness.