I thought I was in the clear about the birthday party- but they ended up having it at father-in-law's instead.
I feel whiny and selfish for ranting on like this, but my god- today of all days.
A- did not believe my words of warning when I told him they would talk non-stop about pregnant sister-in-law. He thought it would maybe be mentioned and then passed over in conversation- he is obviously not weathered in the ways of family expanding. My family is already pretty expanded, having been a youngest child for 10 years I have watched my older siblings reproduce. A- is an older sibling, second eldest. This is only A-s second biological niece or nephew- of course they don't have anything else to talk about at the nephews birthday party. Just, oh my god, her freaking ultrasound tomorrow when they'll find out the gender and how she's feeling movement, 5 months today, look how cute she is, blah blah blah.
I understand she deserves such joy- we all do- but what I heard was the silence. The asking her and her sister about their children, and all they said to me was why we would plant a cherry tree and what kind of fruit it has... I did not tell them the real reason we planted the cherry tree. I didn't feel like exposing myself so openly at a gathering on today of all days, in such an atmosphere.
So the conversation turned from the nephew who is now 3, and the baby on the way, and how exciting that is and how eager everyone is. On the other side of the room, my husband sat with me and my brother and gave me this sad little look like he couldn't wait to be out of that room. My little brother was clenching his leg because his stitches were bothering him- perfect excuse to book it. So we did... abruptly. I don't even really care what they may have said after we left.
- Today is International Babylost Mama Day. I miss my babies- I have done so much to have them, to bring them into the world, and none of it worked. I have loved them even though I barely knew them. I don't feel like a mother- I feel like a failure with a perpetual broken heart. But I have loved these embryos more than some women love their actual children, done more for them than some women did for their living children... but does any of that make me a mother? I don't know. I do know this- coming home to this empty house day after day, remembering how I almost had something before it slipped away, how almosts are not definites- I do not feel like a mother. No one calls me a mother. No one acknowledges what I have lost.
- I have my mid-cycle ultrasound tomorrow. Not expecting much, and feeling listless in my despondence.
- Then Tuesday I have to face the fact that it's been two years since I lost the first pregnancy. Two years... where did the time go?