Tuesday, March 24, 2009
I got an email today with pictures of a co-worker's newborn son. I look at the images on my screen, and I'm happy for her for a moment. And then my heartbreak returns like always. In the time I've spent trying for a baby, she's had 2. So many others I know have had baby after baby in that time. I feel defeated. Almost 3 years later I'm still as hurt as I was the first few days after Madison died. For some reason people tell me to enjoy my time without a baby. Being a foster parent isn't the same because with our own baby we have to be completely responsible for all of their expenses, and you can't give them back. Don't rush to have a baby. Would people tell me the same thing if Madison had lived for a few months or a few years before she died? Would people tell the mother of a child that died in a car accident to enjoy their life without that child? Look on the bright side, you can travel, eat out, not have to worry about day care or babysitters. Like it's a good thing that their child died. People think that just because she didn't live to make it home with us that we could possibly be that attached to her. Other mothers forget how quickly that bond formed with their child when they felt that first kick or saw their baby on an ultrasound. If they had to walk in my shoes would they still want people to tell them to be happy that they don't have a baby. Or would their faces hurt from all the fake smiles they had to display day after day to stop the tears from breaking free. I used to say I've been tried by fire, but that's not exactly true. I'm not done being tried by fire, and I'm not sure when I will be.