December 12-17, Go to Hell

   Yesterday was a tough one.  It marked a year since the awful ultrasound appointment at which I found out that my pregnancy was over and I wouldn't have a baby in July.  I think about that appointment pretty much everyday anyway, but yesterday the memories were overwhelming.  Today is not much better, since last year on Dec 13, I went to my RE early that morning hoping he would see the heartbeat that had been there two days before and tell me that the OB's office was wrong.  But he didn't.  The 17th was my D&C.  It was also the day my best friend conceived her baby that was just born this Sept, because life is often cruel that way.  I wish I could sleep through these dates or at least hide in the privacy of my house, but I can't.  I went to the store yesterday, and was greeted by pregnant bellies everywhere.  Then as I pulled into our driveway, I saw our old neighbor pull up to the house that he used to live in, and I was glad to see him since it has been over a year.  But as my luck seems to go, he couldn't wait to tell me that his wife is 36 weeks pregnant with their first boy.  It took everything I had to get out a "congratulations" and get through the rest of that conversation.
Last night when Matt and I got in bed,  I just broke down in the dark where I could ugly cry and be safe with my husband.  He asked me if I wanted to talk about it, and I did talk about it although I know he can't really understand.  He wasn't affected that deeply by our loss, because he never let himself get invested since it was early and that's just the way he is. I told him the best way I can think to describe it is like falling in love with someone only to find out that they don't exist.  You have such a deep love for this person, and you imagine your life with them in it and how things will be and all the possibilities, and then you find out that those things will never be.  No one else knows this person and they never will, so they don't understand why you'd feel so lost without them or how you can be in so much pain.  They don't want to talk about someone who didn't exist in their world.  You can't share memories of them, because you have none (other than a few ultrasound pictures). This person changed your life, and no one even knows him or her.  And on top of all of that, that person was your child.  Your own DNA growing in your body and completely dependent upon you.  And a year later, you still desperately love someone who will never be a part of this world.  Someone who will never hug you or depend on you or know you or call you their mom.  It's just soul crushing.

   I know I'm always posting about songs and the timing of hearing them, but I have started to notice a pattern.  Almost every time I have an appointment with my Napro doctor, the song I heard on the way to my ultrasound on the 12th comes on the radio either before the appointment or in the car on the way home.  I rarely hear it otherwise.  This is the one:

I like to focus on the "I will be brave" and "one step closer" lyrics as a reminder.  I don't have another choice if I want to be a mother.  I've done everything I know to do, I'm investing my heart despite it being broken, and I am just hoping that it will be worth it in the end and that the end of this journey is not too far away.