Misfit

It is a strange place to be.

I was not infertile. I am not childless. I did not suffer "the worst" of it. I have more than one living child. I did not lose my firstborn. I did not lose all my children. I do not fit into any of the "standard" narratives within the babyloss community. I lost my second child...and my third...and my last.

I had a thought the other day. That if someone were to see my medical records, they would see that I had an abortion...probably more than one. I wonder what they would think.

I feel like I am not entitled to my feelings anymore. I feel that the friendly agreement we had once to avoid the Pain Olympics has faded away and left us with the same old "if you think that's bad" type of conversations that old women have...comparing aches and pains that will be with us until we die. It has caused me to retreat into myself...where I know there is no comparison...where no justification is necessary.

Because I can't explain what it was like...what it IS like...how it feels. I keep hoping I'll find happy. I keep hoping I'll be able to BE happy with what I do have...rather than pining for what I've lost or what might have been. But there is this gaping hole...right at the core of who I am...and I can not change that.

I remember once, years ago before children, having a conversation about what my greatest regret would be if I died today. I don't remember what it is I said. But today...today it is this...that I failed. That's it. As a woman...as a wife...as a mom. I failed.

None of this makes any sense.

It is a strange place to be.