There are some parts of grief that just make you feel bad about yourself. As if what happened wasn't bad enough.
For me, it's cropped up pretty often in the past two years. And it's about birth. I hate how I feel when I hear about babies being born.
It's the worst bipolar feeling. I sit and wait--wait for other mama's pregnancies to come to an end. I think about them so much. And I keep them close in the back of my mind. Because I want those babies to be OK. I want them to arrive and be fine and crying and everyone gets their happy birth. I want it to be normal for them.
Because I don't want to hear about an ending like yours, Luke. My heart doesn't want to have to hear about that happening to anyone else. I don't want anyone else to have to go through what we went through. I read stories--about it happening to someone else--total strangers, and it hurts me. I know that pain and I hate that others feel it too.
But at the same time, the jealousy creeps in. When I breathe that sigh of relief after hearing baby and mama are doing fine, it begins. Will I ever not be jealous? That that baby hung on just long enough to make it out to the other side? That that family won't have a hole in their family tree like we do?
I would never wish stillbirth on anyone. And yet the jealousy and hurt always come creeping back in. It's so unfair. It makes me feel like I'm a bad person.
But then I heard about Lydie. And I know that I'm not a bad person. Because talking to her Mama, and realizing there still are people out there, going through what we went through, my heart is broken for them. I'm jealous about others' healthy babies, but when I hear new loss stories, my heart still breaks for them. I know what shoes they're walking in now. I hate it FOR them.
I know that I wish this would never happen to anyone else.
I'm just wishing for the family that I thought I had, but never will. And that will always suck.