My baby died. It’s been almost 39 days exactly since we lost her.
Didn’t you get the memo? Oh you did, but you don’t know what to say? Or you are afraid I will blame you for still carrying your son in your womb while my daughter is gone?
Well, that’s not how I feel.
I don’t blame anyone for our situation – not myself, not my husband, not the doctors, not even God.
But, I am extremely hurt by your insensitivity.
I LOST MY BABY. I LOST MY LEFT FALLOPIAN TUBE.
And I also lost my sister.
Don’t you remember how hard it was when Aunt Carol died? Don’t you remember laying together on the couch in the basement and crying? This is so much harder for me than that.
Imagine waking up tomorrow without your baby. Imagine he was taken from you in the night. Imagine you are never getting him back, never getting to see what his face would have looked like, never getting to be a Mom in the eyes of everyone else.
I just want to lie back on that couch in the basement and be held by everyone I love around me. Because right now, I feel so broken. I don’t know how to ever go back to the person I was before, but I realize that I probably never will.
You know I always put on a tough front, but inside, my sensitivity is overwhelming. I base my good days on the number of times I cry. I aim for less than 3x a day. My episodes usually happen in the bathroom at work or on the drive home, or especially late at night. That’s when I feel the most alone.
It’s hard not understanding how the world around you can move forward when you are still grieving, still wondering why this happened to you, to your husband and to your baby.
You have always told me I am the strong one, but I am frightened beyond belief of what else I may have to face in the future. I feel like a fraud. My strength is dwindling.
The past few weeks, I have been thinking a lot about your upcoming delivery. I see cute birthing gowns on Etsy and I want to send you one. I see post-partum care packages and think, “Oh that would be great for her!“.
But, then I realize you don’t deserve it.
I didn’t have a choice when it came to losing my baby or my tube. I had to give them up or I was going to lose my own life.
You made the choice for me about losing our relationship. You chose to abandon me. You chose to pretend that nothing happened. You chose to block me out of your life.
I know I may not have been a perfect older sister, but I always tried my best to be there for you when you asked for help.
This time, I need help. I need love and compassion from the people who mean the most to me, my family, but you have cut yourself out of that category.
Deep down, I keep hoping that we can work things out. I pray that you will come around, reach out to me and admit that you made a mistake. Something as simple as, “I’m sorry. We are thinking of you“, would suffice.
It’s hard enough for me to take care of myself these days. I can’t spend extra energy nourishing a one-sided relationship that you obviously aren’t interested in continuing.
I am truly happy for you as you embark on your journey into motherhood. I just wish things could have been different. I wish that you could have seen how much the simplest of actions would have meant to me.