I'm jealous. I have admitted it more than once, but now it's really starting to bother me that I'm not normal. I can't bring myself to talk about potential baby names...or joke about how I feel physically...or contemplate how things have changed with each pregnancy. And I really can't listen to women who talk about how hard it is to deal with their children for one reason or another. I feel as though I could launch into a rant at any moment...hard? you want to know hard? try visiting your dead baby at a cemetery, buried under a foot of snow...then you'll know what hard IS.
I don't want to be the person in the crowd that is always bringing everyone else down. And I suppose I could pretend like it doesn't bother me when women around me talk about that stuff...but what would be the point of that? This is so lonely...so frightening.
There is nothing to hang on to here. There is nothing to guide me. Emily Post didn't write about this stuff.
So I'm polite and silent. NOW I understand "Silent Grief." You're allowed to feel it...just don't share it...keep silent.
There is great peace in the silence. I suppose that's a good thing.