As if I should be Grateful? What?

"At least you can relax, you don't have a kid to take care of"

 

My first trimester has been difficult, with all day nausea and the nature of my high risk label putting me on reduced activity from my obstetrician and family/hubby ordered bed rest - I have spent a lot of this pregnancy propped up on pillows doing whatever I can to relax and keep my mind away from the negative things that hang in the dark corners of my mind.

 

The other day, after violently throwing up my lunch, someone told me this, someone who not only is aware of our son but had been there while we struggled through our infertility and the early losses. This kind of statement would be okay from the unaware-but-trying-to-be-nice lady at the store, or the doctors office, even the bank - that I could forgive, simply blissful ignorance. But from someone who knows what we've come through, someone who can hold her children here and completely ignore everything that can go wrong because it hasn't happened to her. I can't forgive, there are so many things that as a parent to a child in heaven we have to hear; I've been told that I need to "move on" as if it was that easy to forget my son, that my husband "should find another wife" as if my fertility was the only thing my husband married me for. I have had people dig through my darkest experiences in sheer curiosity then shrug it off while I try to pull together the shreds of my grief and struggle. I have had people tell me to wait to have another child, because I had the chance, to do something different with my life, as if I could suddenly erase the 40 weeks I spent loving and preparing for my baby, 40 weeks of being a mother to a little boy that I would never hold. I've had people "offer" me their kids or tell me how lucky I am because I can sleep in ect - because I wouldn't trade everything I have to wake up every morning to my son's sweet smile, to instead have him cry for me.

 

I've heard a lot as a mother to an angel, but the absolute ignorance in her comment has hit me harder than most - I presume because I once confided a lot of my darkest in her. I couldn't even react, even now I can't get her comment out of my head and I wonder if other people dwell on the things they've said the same way I do.

As if I should be grateful that I don't have a child, that my little blonde boy isn't here, so I can just relax.

 

The thing is, I do have a child and I am a mother. My first pregnancy was real, my son was here and the trauma from my labor and delivery have scarred me both physically and emotionally. I have enough to take care of and although I would wish it all away if it meant that little blonde boy was here I can't.

 

I would do anything if it meant he was here; trying to find ways to work with my reduced activity and bed rest to keep him entertained and happy, just like so many mothers that have children here while high risk, teaching and preparing him to be the amazing big brother that I know our angel would be. I would do anything to be planning ways to make him feel involved with his little brother or sister during my pregnancy, ways to include him and make the day he would've met this baby special for him. I would do anything to hear my sweet little blonde boy, we would've been almost five years old now, talk excitedly about the baby brother or sister growing in his Mommy's tummy. I would do anything to have such a little trivial thing like balancing my doctor ordered reduced activity with an active child but I can't, I don't even get that chance and I HATE it. I hate that I can't have him here, I hate that instead I have to look forward to the day my little family is reunited in heaven, in the Lord's time and not mine. I hate that instead this is my life, that my life is without my son and instead of watching in wonder of the amazing big brother our sweet boy would've been I have to plan how I will teach this baby about their big brother, instead I will have to find ways to celebrate their big brother without causing them to fear death as the monster that took their big brother away.

 

But at least I can just relax, I'm clearly foolish to not be grateful that I am not "burdened" with a living, thriving child. Right, quite possibly the worst thing I have ever been told in the 5 years that I have spent aching for my little blonde boy.

Although I know that when we get to meet our rainbow baby in February that my grief and that ache will change - it will never go away & this life, with one child in heaven and one in my arms, will always be mine. If this is how it has to be, I will take it - because having had our son even if only for the short time we did, is better than never having the chance to love him. But that doesn't mean I should somehow be grateful for the supposed ease I have through this pregnancy without him here.

xo, Anne.