It has been 5 and a half months since we held our baby and said hello and goodbye in the same breath. Sometimes it feels like seconds ago, and other times it feels like another lifetime.
For the most part life has gone on. I have been back at work since September, Aly is growing and changing by leaps and bounds, and life at home tends to fall back into the same regular routine. We are working on potty training with Aly, which is taking a lot longer than I had anticipated. Of course. I really need to learn to stop making plans for these kinds of things ;)
But part of my heart is still so empty, still very broken. And for the last two weeks it seems like relentless hits just keep on coming. The dozen random notes to let me know people are thinking of my precious baby and still saying prayers for me bring me to my knees. I am so grateful that people still remember. But it brings things back to the surface all over again (yet still worth it to know that others know Aubree and miss her too).
And then there are the very painful triggers. This past week I was caught off-guard at work in a meeting with people I had not seen in several months, if not years. "Oh, Sarah, how's the baby?" Such an innocent question to ask. Yet, it left me sitting there completely befuddled. Baby? What baby? I don't have a baby? Oh, Aly? She's 2 now, going on 15, and full of little-girl drama. Definitely not a baby anymore!
"No, the baby. How's the baby?" And that's when it hit me. Crap. What do I say? Oh my goodness, everyone is looking at me. Seconds felt like hours...my heart was racing and my stomach felt sick. Why was everyone staring at me? How long was I sitting there with my mouth open and my eyes fixed on the wall in the background? What do I say to someone I barely know, let alone a room full of strangers? "Um, she passed away," was all I could mutter, while looking at the ground and wishing I could run away.
But the questions didn't stop there. "How did she pass?" Ok, normal question. This one I could answer. Her little heart was broken and couldn't make it. "So, are you trying again?" When I stalled on answering again the question was asked repeated. Several times. WOW. Searing pain coursed through my body as I began to panic. First of all, from co-workers I barely know, how is a question like that appropriate? Secondly, that is a really painful topic for me right now. The truth is that it's been left up to God's timing since we got the clearance from my doctor in September. And each month that passes with negative tests followed by a period brings me to tears. I feel like something is wrong with me, even though they say there isn't. I feel like God is punishing me, even though I know in my head this isn't true. Honestly I don't even remember how I managed to answer this question or the several minutes following.
And then, to top it all off, was the seemingly "funny" comment made by an acquaintance. We were talking about kiddos and how they all have very different personalities. Aly is our independent child, and I had stated that I knew Aubree would have been our clingy, needy baby. "Oh, well, guess you dodged a bullet there, huh?" WHAT THE HELL?!?! Yes, we sure did. I am so glad that we aren't being inconvenienced by a healthy, living child. You are right, a dead baby is absolutely preferable to a colicky one. I wish I could have said those things. Instead I just stared blankly for a second and tried to change the subject.
For the most part there are still way more good days than bad. And when the bad times come I am able to re-direct my thoughts and actions most of the time. But there are days when I just can't seem to function. It's always annoying to find a new trigger since I really don't know what it is going to be. The other day I was eating a grapefruit and had to throw it away because it reminded me too much of Aubree. A freaking grapefruit! *sigh*
