Today's the two year anniversary of my 18 week pregnancy loss. He was a boy.
As much as I feel like I should mark this occasion with a long, poetic post about growth and appreciation and finding beauty where you least expect it, that's just not on today's agenda.
Do you know what is on today's agenda?
- Saying the F word. I think I've said it forty or fifty times, and it's only 12:30. I've said it at work, I've said it on the phone, I've said it just for fun.
- Laying (or is it lying?...either way it's just another reason to drop the f-bomb) under my covers.
- Egging my husband on to go take a look at a hunting dog he's had his eye on since the day we moved back to Maine--because you know, whatever, it's only a dog. I don't care. Seriously, what is there to care about? Have I mentioned that I don't care? What was I writing about? A dog? Whatever.
- Replaying the song I Will Follow You Into Dark over and over and over in my head, and crying like a baby when I pulled that video off of of YouTube. And since we're on the topic, this song always kills me. And this one. And pretty much every other song that talks about lost love, and uses the word "baby"--which, if I had to guess, is 79% of all songs ever written.
When a friend or loved-one or random facebook person loses a pregnancy, please, please, PLEASE never say anything to the effect of:
Everything happens for a reason.
or
That's too bad, but at least this didn't happen to you...[insert unbelievably horrible story about friend-of-a-friend's baby here].
Those are incredibly stupid things to say. Instead, try something like this:
I'm really sorry, I just don't know what to say.
or
I'm so sad for you.
Those things are so much better.
Maybe I'll write more someday, but in the mean time, just know that you guys are great. Glad you've been with me through the happy and sad. I don't know you, but I love you.
