Left behind

Yesterday we had a few friends over to celebrate M's birthday. Neither one of us was really in the mood to celebrate, but we figured a handful of couples would be nice.

In accordance with our current (involuntary) residence in BabyLand, we had one real live baby in attendance (with parents of course), one couple due tomorrow with their first, one couple who are actively TTC, and us. There was much discussion of breast feeding, baby clothes, pros and cons of certain cribs, maternity leaves, etc etc. Nothing I wanted to particularly discuss. My mommy friend told my expecting friend she thought she was having a boy, because everyone is having boys. We had a girl, I chimed in. No response, of course. I guess dead babies don't make the baby roll.

Later in the evening my mommy friend invited us to their house for a Canada Day party on July 1st. A Family Fun Day, she called it. She listed off a few names of people who were coming. It included at least four babies, two of which will be under a month old. I smiled and told her thanks for the invite, but later told M I don't think I'll be able to go. I cannot imagine how uncomfortable that will be for me. How am I supposed to sit there and chime in on conversations about breastfeeding when my sweet baby is buried? How can I listen to new moms complain about sleepless nights and spit-up and all that baby stuff without wanting to tear my hair out? How I can I keep my friends without spending time with them in their new lives? Should I just start over?

M agreed, no, we're definitely not going to the party. He suggested hosting our own and inviting the extended family. Maybe. What I really want to do is go to bed and not get up, maybe arm myself with DVDs and blindly watch episode after episode of an old TV show. We'll see. I want to ignore the fireworks and the little ones on their daddy's shoulders, ignore the cotton candy and the facepaint, and go to bed.

I feel so stuck. I am supposed to be in their club. The mommy-and-me, frizzy-haired, sleep deprived club. And I'm not. I'm back to square one. Actually, more like square -25. Not only do we not have our Charlotte, but we're so broken physically and emotionally that I don't know when we'll even be ready to "try again". Or if we'll even want to.

Know what I'm an expert on? Emergency C-sections. Mag sulfate. HELLP syndrome, pre-eclampsia, blood pressure. Baby caskets and hymns appropriate for a baby's memorial service. Colors of granite for monuments. How to literally force yourself up in the morning before you can convince yourself that it's not worth it. Hmm. None of these are likely topics of conversation in my mommy-club group of friends. Guess I'll be staying quiet for awhile.

Wow, I sound really bitter. Actually, broken is what I really am. So, so broken.