Robbed

I know I’ve been feeling this way since Vivienne died, but this week, it feels very much at the front of my emotions. I have spent the better part of the week just wanting to scream “I got robbed!” Everywhere I turn, I see something else that my husband and I have been robbed of.

Every morning, I go on Facebook. Inevitably, someone has posted baby pictures. I either see ones from my friends or ones that my friends have commented on, but there is always at least one. I expect that to happen—those are happy and proud parents, and they should be. They can dress their little ones up in cute clothes or OU gear to celebrate the Sweet 16. They can post their first steps, first words, and artwork. And of course they should—their lives are more precious than most people appreciate, and that should be celebrated. But every single one points out something that we’ll never get to do with Vivienne. We got robbed of all of those everyday moments and the right to show them off to the world.

A couple of days ago, I was at a work lunch. There was a conversation at the end of my table with people talking about their kids at school—their grades, who they like to play with, and what they think they’ll be when they grow up. It’s everyday parenting talk, and I got used to it a long time before I tried to have a baby. But this time, it made me think about another thing we’ll never have with Vivienne. We’ll never talk about how she’s doing at school, how she’s progressing, and what we think she’ll be like when she grows up. We were robbed of all of that promise.

At the same lunch, people told funny stories about their kids. Again, the everyday parenting talk I’ve gotten used to. But as each one told stories about their children, I was reminded that I won’t get any more stories. I have all of the Vivienne stories I’m ever going to get, and no one really wants to hear them. I know you’re probably all wanting to say “but I want to hear them!” That’s a nice thought, but imagine sitting around a table at a perfectly pleasant lunch, and I break out the story of my daughter’s birth and death. Trust me—nobody wants to hear it. We’ll never tell a funny story about Vivienne where everyone will smile and laugh. The very mention of her name makes most people sad, including me. Once again, we got robbed. Robbed of the freedom to talk freely and casually about our daughter.

I have multiple friends who are pregnant or who have had babies recently—some I’ve known since before Vivienne and some that I’ve met in the loss community since her death. As I look at the differences between the 2, and think about my recent miscarriages, I have to accept that I’ve also been robbed of ever having a normal pregnancy. I see the non loss Moms who are so excited—making plans, having baby showers, and going about their everyday lives pretty normally. And then I look at my loss Moms. Forty weeks of anxiety, terror, and worry. We don’t say things like “when the baby comes home.” We say “if I get to keep this baby.” I know it’s all worth it in the end, but it’s another thing we’ve been robbed of. We’ve been robbed of a happy, carefree, and hopeful pregnancy. I’ll never know that feeling again.

So I guess this is my scream. I GOT ROBBED! I don’t want the loss of my daughter to make me a bitter person. But it’s hard to watch the rest of the world (or so it seems) enjoy all of those things that we’ll never have with Vivienne and not feel some bitterness and anger over all the things that were stolen from  us.