Dear Friend Who is Expecting or Friend with a Newborn,
I miss you. I miss our talks, our texts, our emails of baby stuff back and forth. I miss asking you questions, planning future play dates and looking forward to going through mommy-hood with you.
Over the last few months, I have distanced myself from you and for that, I'm sorry. I have to plead for your understanding. My world stopped, but yours kept going and that is so hard for me to deal with sometimes. Pregnant friends, it hurts to watch as your bump continues to grow because I miss mine. It is hard to see you because you represent who I was, who I would give anything to go back to. Seeing you makes me hurt. As I watch you come up on 33 weeks and then surpass it, it makes me sad I didn't get to that part myself. Those with newborns, you are who I should be right now. Watching as you brought your child into the world and receive the title of the most coveted role, mommy, is filled with nothing but joy to you but it breaks my heart. It's so selfish, I know, I hate this.
I'm jealous of you. I want what you have. You get to have a completely blissful pregnancy, in happy anticipation of the end result. I had that for 32 weeks and 6 days but that is something I will never have again. Whenever I am blessed with another pregnancy, it will be anxiety ridden. It will be terrifying. It will be filled with stress and worry that something terrible could happen again. It will be my PTSD. You get the joy, but I know the pain. You hear your baby cry for you, watch them open their eyes, smile and coo at you, grasp your finger, feed them, rock them, bathe them - all things I should be doing right now but it was taken away from me.
I am sorry that I will not attend your baby shower. I can't do it. You see, I was just 4 days from mine when we discovered Hudson no longer had a heartbeat. On the day and time that I should have had a shower to celebrate his pending arrival, we had his funeral instead. If I attended yours, I would be fighting tears the entire time or have a spontaneous breakdown moment (which that happens now, that's this life post-loss, you can't control it) and that isn't fair to you and your happy occasion.
I'm asking a lot of you. I'm asking you to love me through a period of time where I can't be a very good friend to you. The happiest time of your life is the darkest in mine. I'm asking you to understand my withdrawal with promise that I'll get to a point that I can be present for you again. There are seasons for everything and right now I am "having a season." I hope that you can love me through it. I wish I could put a time frame on this part so I can tell you that by a certain date, I will be all better and ready to see you, laugh with you, snuggle your baby, talk about mom things. I just don't know when that might be. It may change when I'm pregnant again, it may not be until I have my own baby in my arms someday, I just don't know and simply put, it sucks. I have to put on a charade every day to try to be a semblance of what once was, hiding my now fragmented self.
I ask for your forgiveness. I've probably removed your from my social media visibility. Baby posts are gut wrenching and in an effort to be kind to my head and my heart, I began to unfollow people that posted bump pictures, any status update that had to do with being pregnant, or pictures of their baby. I know, that's a terrible friend-thing for me to do and I am so sorry. I know there is more to your life than that, but that's all I can see right now and it hurts too bad. Please remember how lucky you are to have what you have.
I am asking for your grace as I learn how to have that
with others. My resentment isn't fair to you. You did nothing to deserve
my abandonment. This is just where I am right now.
While I can't be a good friend to you now, know that I can be again some day. Know that in the future I will be able to celebrate with you, go on double dates or girls nights again, chit chat about whatever and not have to force a smile. More importantly, if you ever experience a trial in life, know that someday I am here to hold your hand, if and when you ever need it. If you are ever struggling with something, know that I'm your girl. I wasn't good at that before, but now that I understand grief, loss, true sadness and emptiness, if at any time through your life journey you find yourself enduring those things, I can be your person. That's a promise.
I wish you continued happiness, many blessings, a safe delivery and a healthy baby. I look forward to a time I can hug your neck again. Know that I love you, it's just hard to show it right now.
Thank you for your understanding, don't give up on me.
Katie
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