Being an agoraphobe has it's advantages. Or how to lose friends in 8 months

Again I sit at a loss for words. I've lost my baby and my ability to speak, apparently.
Sunday at church, every Sunday, this one couple invites us for dinner. So thoughtful and lovely of them, really. But. But. They have a passel of kids. Mostly 3 and under. Girls. And I can't. I just cannot. So we've begged off. Too many times. Not wanting to be rude and appear as a bunch of jerk faces, Jim took the husband aside and explained to him about our loss, and that I have massive social issues of late and cannot be around tiny children right now. He was so very kind about it. But I wonder what he said to his wife. I wonder if SHE understood? Or if they now think I am a total freak. (I am, but that's a different post)


There is such a paradox inside of me right now. I am broken and torn, and miserable and just a giant ball of ICK. But I also, at times have this wonderful positive tiny spark of hope. I hope we will conceive again. But no. I hope we will BRING a baby home this time. I hope I don't ever have to tell my kids again that their sibling died. That I failed.


I can't talk to people. I can't pay attention to what they are saying. I can't DO anything lately. All my friends and family are losing patience with me. I'M losing patience with me. My pain is so on the surface and palpable right now, more than ever before and it makes people uncomfortable. I cannot keep nodding my head, smiling and saying I'm fine. No one wants to hear how unfine I really am, and I cannot really talk about it anyway. I can write, sure, but I cannot speak about Leta right now. I just cannot.

I can't talk about how imaginary she feels. Where is the proof that my Daughter existed? It sits in a blue urn. In a box filled with obituaries, and tiny buntings. In my heavy, broken heart. That's all I have.

Giant oozing suckfest of self pity

Today Autumn has come. The leaves have been turning for a while, but it's been HOT and miserable still. Today though, today Autumn is here. It's wet and crisp and breezy and cool. The sky is overcast, which makes me happy, because it reflects my heart which is overcast.

My heart is overcast and cold. Rainy. So it's Autumn. I love Autumn. Usually. But I don't really care. All I can see in the near future are "this time last year" days. This time last year I got pregnant. This time last year I was overjoyed, rich, blessed. Now, so much has been taken from us. I know we still have a lot. We have J, S, and C. I know. Thank God. But so much else was robbed. We lost a baby, but we lost a lot more. We lost our innocence. We lost our trust. We lost our will to... to what? I don't know. Believe that life isn't scary or sad or devastating?

Halloween is soon. I have always hated it, but this year, the year after the year, I want to hide under my covers till all the damn holidays have passed. I don't want to celebrate a trite holiday with candy and merriment. I want to do nothing. But I can't. I have to celebrate this piece of crap day with candy and costumes and a big fake smile.

I can't even think about Thanksgiving right now. I told Jim that we need to go away for Thanksgiving. To some out of the way crappy hotel. I want to make a point of ignoring Thanksgiving. I don't want to spend it with well meaning, but ignorant family. I want to do NOTHING. Last year I was sick as a dog cooking dinner for family. Sick but so HAPPY.

Christmas, the thought of it, paralyzes me. How do I celebrate. The year after year.
Dead baby land is a giant oozing suckfest, isn't it?