The world is full of double standards. They're all over the place and cannot usually be avoided. But I never realized how full my own head was with them.
I'm full of double standards. They suck, but I don't know how to get around them. I don't even know why I put them there! And it had to be me, who else would be in my head? What am I screwing myself about? Grief.
For some reason I seem to feel that I have no right to grieve right now. I'm blessed with two beautiful children, a wonderful husband, the luxury to stay at home with my children, and so much more. Every time I start to get down about my recent miscarriage, I try to reason with myself. "Yes, you lost that baby, but look at what you've been given!" Really? Really, Amanda? WTH?
I would expect anyone out there that has suffered a loss to be heartbroken! Early loss, ectopic, first trimester loss, second loss, stillbirth, neonatal death, failed adoption, etc...I'd expect anyone to cry, rage, mourn their loss. But for some reason I won't allow myself.
I'd be the first one to say that grief can't be compared, yet I find myself comparing mine. I'm comparing what I'm going through to
everyone's situations. She lost a parent. She is losing a husband. She's having her (insert number here) miscarriage. She doesn't have any children, yet. She is living a farce of a marriage. He is about marry for the wrong reasons...for the second time. Why do I do this?
My grief is MINE and mine ALONE. I'm heartbroken. I'm stuck waking up to the fact every morning that I'm no longer pregnant; there is no longer another life inside of me. I keep having the what-she-would-have-grow-up-to-do thoughts, and have to remind myself that she won't be anything...she's dead.
And I'm
trying to grieve, but every time I do...every time I start to get misty eyed I go hug my boys. It makes me feel better, but it also keeps me from feeling my grief. How am I supposed to keep this from eating away at me if I won't let it out?
I've also raged and vented about how so many people try so hard to say the "right" thing and end up screwing it up royally. I don't know how many times I've said "the best thing to say is "I'm sorry" and "I'm praying for you" or "I'm thinking of you"." You know what I've caught myself saying when people have said I'm sorry? "It happens." WHAT??? Yes, it happens (duh), but why can't I just accept the condolences?
I want to stand on the mountain and scream at the skies, "WHY ME?!?!?" but then I think, "why anyone? why her? or her?" I even wrote that I didn't feel I deserved this pregnancy before I even found out it was doomed. ("
I’ve already been blessed so much…why would I deserve any more?" But I do want more.
But I don't want
more, I just want what I thought I was getting. I want my baby back. (and could I freaking shoot myself every time I think that? I get the stupid
Chili's baby-back rib commercial stuck in my head every. freaking. time. and now I'm hungry and revolted at the same time.)
