Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Feeling Selfish

A thought has been crossing my mind lately that I am slightly embarrassed about.  I really shouldn't think it.  In the grand scheme of things, this is a tiny, unimportant matter that really is kind of selfish.   But, in the spirit of the blog, it wouldn't be fair for me to not write about it, so here goes.  I have lost my special status - and it upsets me.

When you are pregnant, people smile at you.  All the time.   They open doors for you.  They slow their car and wave you across the parking lot.   When you are pregnant, people treat you differently.  Sometimes, it's just a tiny glimmer of acknowledgement in their eyes, but it's something that says "Hey.  Way to go.  You're making a human and that's awesome!"   From what I have seen firsthand, that attitude continues once the baby is born.  Strangers stop on the street to oogle the baby.  They make faces.  They wave.   They give nods of "I've been there, too!  Keep on keepin on!"    I miss that.   I miss feeling special and I am upset that I didn't get to continue it.  

It's not fair.   In the amount of time it took to realize her heart had stopped beating, I went from the spotlight to the shadows.  I went from basking in the sun to cowering in the corner.   I feel absolutely terrible that I am complaining about this, but then I remember that it wasn't ME that made anything special.  It was Kenley.   She was the one who I was pregnant with.  She was the one who made me glow from the inside out.  She was the reason my belly bulged. 

It's hard to go from celebrating to mourning in a split second.  It's hard to spend so long hopeful for the future and then plunge headfirst into living in the past.   Right now, all my joy comes from her.  Memories of pregnancy, of how I felt to feel her move, of the smiles I got when strangers glimpsed my growing stomach.  I cling to that special feeling because it is all I have left.  When I lost her, I lost the light that illuminated me.  The light that enabled everyone to see me.

When I go out into the world, no one gives me a second glance.  No one thinks I am special.   No one smiles at me.  No one waves at me.  And it hurts.  It hurts because they don't know.  They see a woman with ill fitting pants and a soft stomach and think nothing of it, if they even see me at all.   I want to run up to everyone I see, look them right in the eye, and say, "Hey...I am still special! Look at me!  My baby is not here, but I am still a mother!  I still deserve your smiles and your knowing glances!"   Sometimes, I feel like a ghost that no one can see.   Running around, trying to make herself known, but everyone just looks right through her.  No one knows she's there 

I hate the selfishness of this post, but I hate feeling like this all the same.  Maybe the fact that Mother's Day is quickly approaching is making me extra sensitive, but I can't help how I feel.   I was pregnant.   I had a baby.   I lost her.  But, I am still special, dammit!   


  1. I too had a baby once. My baby was taken from me far too soon. Like Kenley, my angel was born still. My husband at the time couldn't relate. He was sad at first, but not like I was sad. He got over much faster than I ever could have. To be honest, I'm still not over it.

    But he was over it. And I was reminded constantly, by his actions and even worse, his inactions.  At first he was my ROCK!! He was "sympathetic" at first, then sympathetic became "understanding", then understanding became "tolerant"...and before you know it, my feelings eventually became a nuisance. With the time that had passed, my constant sad feelings were unjustified in his eyes. He understood the situation, but since he had moved on he wanted me to move on too. He was constantly pulling me away from all my reminders and triggers.  He could never know the pain of truly losing a child that LIVED inside of my body.   He could NEVER truly understand.  He never felt our baby kick his little legs on the inside of my belly, or the fluttering, never felt any of it firsthand.

    And to make matters worse, he had a LIVING child. He had a child by a previous girlfriend and he gets to be a father. So a baby he had never held or felt growing wasn’t something for him to mourn.

    What you’re feeling is not selfish, not in my eyes.  You deserve all the happiness in the world. Take your time. Walk your path. Don’t worry about what you should or should not be feeling. Feel it all. And never apologize for it. Never feel guilty.
    One day at a time, it’s all we can do.

  2. Nothing I can say can even begin to let you know how I appreciate your eloquence with your words. You capture emotions like no one else I've ever read. You are so honest. And I just want to hug you from where ever I am every single day. Some days it might be a motherly hug, other days, a friendship hug, and once in a while a sad hug, and maybe the next day, a laughing hug. But always a hug of love and admiration. The inspiration you project is beyond description. I might be silent while I read your journey. But I absorb. And the gift you are offering us all is the deep, endless love for Kenley. I would not have had the same feelings, if it wasn't for your sharing. Thank you for your generosity. Kenley is and always will be with all of us for your sharing.