A blog post from Scary Mommy is being shared by many of my fellow loss mommas today on both thebump.com and on FB.
"...nothing ever prepared me for the sheer weight of emotion that crashed down on me and proceeded, over the coming months, to suffocate me under a dark cloud of anguish.
Nothing prepared me for the waves of anger at pregnant women in the street.
"At no point was I told about the blind rage which would leave me shaking when I saw misbehaving tots being screamed at by their end-of-the-tether parents. Or being smoked near. Or being ignored when in need of attention.
"I was utterly unprepared for the isolation from my husband, who (at first) just didn’t *get* why I was so upset.
"I was defenseless against the accusing voice in my mind, telling me that I was clearly undeserving of a baby/hadn’t been careful enough while pregnant/had done it wrong in the first place.
"I was ill-informed about how to respond to throw-away comments from the unintentionally insensitive, which left me feeling as though I’d been emotionally assaulted."
I know those emotions all too well.
I have been lucky enough to bring home a wonderful, sweet boy, but I still grieve over my lost one. I still get angry that he is gone and that the moments I get with one, I don't get with the other.
I hate the questions "Is he your first?" and "How many children do you have?" No matter how I answer them, I'm left feeling dirty, either because I deny my first boy or because I bring up a topic that so many feel is better left swept under the rug.
I am no longer an invisible mother, but there is a spot next to my living boy where my invisible boy should be.
"My children count. They have changed me, and I am their legacy."