A rant

I really feel like nobody understands me. And not in some emo, teenage girl way, but I just don’t think anybody really “gets” what is going on for me right now.

I know this is a big world, and that in actuality there are plenty of people that actually know how I feel. But in my community, there is nobody that understands. I am aware of the forums and online support groups but I don’t really want to be part of some cyberspace dead babies club. That is one thing I wish to be excluded from. Somehow talking to strangers that type in all caps and misspell so many words you have no idea what they are even saying isn’t going to make me feel any better…

I feel like way more is being expected of me than should ever be expected of anybody. Before a lot of mothers who had a C-section even try and take baby steps to the bathroom, I had already been up and out the door and buried my child. Everybody told me they couldn’t believe how well I was doing, well I wasn’t doing well. But I didn’t have the luxury of relaxation. I had a funeral to plan, and clothes to buy, a 2 year old to take care of. I needed to pick out a casket and apply for a death certificate. I had a house full of family members from out of state. I had to meet with the pastor, pick out Bible verses, make a slideshow of my son’s short life to play at his funeral. It wasn’t that I didn’t hurt…but I had to “walk it off” because I had no choice.

I feel like I am being very rushed to get over this. Like people think I need to just move on and they forget that it hasn’t even been 2 weeks since my son died. I think people forget about my part in this whole equation. Because Noah isn’t here I feel like people forget that I just had a baby. I think if Noah was here with me, I could have come home from the hospital and laid in bed for 2 weeks straight and nobody would have said a thing. But I pushed myself as far as I could and I didn’t let this slow me down, I ultimately shot myself in the foot.

Then there are the people who think they know exactly what I am feeling. These are usually the people that have no children. Or the ones that have kids that they do nothing but complain about because they are hard work. Or the ones that miscarried at 6 weeks. Now, I am not trying to downplay people who have miscarriages. But I had one myself, and I can tell you that these are two completely different cups of tea. I carried this child for 6 months. 6 torturously stressful months in which I fought tooth and nail for this child. I felt his kicks and turns and hiccups, I knew I had a second son. I prayed for this child. I had hopes and dreams. I prepared my toddler for the arrival of his baby brother. Then I had to explain death to that same little 2 year old when he didn’t understand why his baby brother wouldn’t stop sleeping. I gave birth to that child all alone while my husband was hours away, and then I held onto that little boy when he died 2 hours later in my arms because my body had failed him. How many of my friends really do know what I am feeling?

I am guessing the answer is very, very few. Very few of them know this aching feeling I have in the core of my being. Very few of them know what it’s like to put their little boy in the ground and walk away. What it’s like to have a 6 inch scar across their stomach that will be a permanent reminder of the worst night of their life. They think their life is tragic when their baby daddy gets stuck working the weekend shift. If you really knew how I felt, you wouldn’t tell me you know how I felt because you would know better. You wouldn’t tell me that my baby is an angel, or that every time it rained I could hear his footsteps in the storm. Or to look at a butterfly and imagine it’s him.

Yah….thanks but no thanks. I find no comfort in a bug, my son reincarnated.

I feel like I am in a weird spot anyways. Noah didn’t live long enough for people to know him and validate him as worthy of my grief. I didn’t bring him home from the hospital and so people forget that I had a baby and expect me to just get on with life. I can’t do that. Noah was a real person, he was my child. I have two children. I gave birth to him and fought harder than most people will ever have to fight for their kids. The only difference is that at the end of it all, my son didn’t get to come home with me.

Also, am I the only person in the world that’s not pregnant right now? I’ll just go ahead and say I am jealous. I wanted this baby so bad. I know the frustration of infertility and I would have done anything for this child. Meanwhile I have about 50 friends having “oops” babies. I have several friends that got pregnant on their first try that are having perfect pregnancies and perfect babies. Why was it so much to ask that my baby live? I really believe that I long for my children in a different way than most. I don’t take them for granted, I don’t look at them as an inconvenience or a burden. I don’t see motherhood as a “thankless job”. I saw my sons as the biggest blessing I could ever receive. I would have died on that operating table for my baby to have his life. I put my life on the line to even stay pregnant with him. I knew the risks of it killing me were relatively high. I knew that I could have bled to death before an ambulance could make it to my house, I knew my risk of infection was basically guaranteed. But that wasn’t even a blip on my radar. I wanted my son that bad.

I don’t understand why this happened to me. Why didn’t this happen to a teenage girl that left her baby to die in the trash on prom night. Or to a drug addicted, crack head that neglected her child. Or to the parents of a child that would molest their babies or beat them to death mercilessly. Why did this happen to me? I am a good mom. I feel like my son’s life was wasted. I know God has a plan, but for today I am very discouraged.

I have tried so hard to stay positive but today I just needed a rant. I still need your prayer through this. Please pray that I can learn to delight in other’s children, because currently I am having a hard time not feeling resentment towards all the other parents around me. I also pray that the Lord can open my eyes to Noah’s purpose on this earth, I need to know why my baby was taken away from me. I also need some peace of heart and restoration of my body. I want to enjoy the rest of my family which is hard right now. I am hurting too much. Both emotionally and physically.

My next blog won’t be such a rant, I promise. But for today thanks for listening to me!