When you hide a post on Facebook, the FB powers that be want answers. They need to know why. Why did you hit hide? Why do you want to hide this post? Why are you blocking this post? Do you want to hide all posts? Do you really want to be on Facebook? What is your problem, after all?
Choose a reason:
-it’s not interesting
-I’ve seen it before
Where’s the box marked “She keeps posting photos of her sister, blissfully and hugely pregnant. Her sister shares what should have been my baby’s due date. I should be just as pregnant as she is, I should be huge and uncomfortable and I should be feeling restless kicks and nudges inside my belly. But my baby died at 17 weeks and hers didn’t.”?
Where’s that box, anyway?
Two and a half months since the miscarriage, and I feel pretty strong. I feel like I’m coping as best I know how while faced with something so foreign. Pregnancy was unfamiliar enough, pregnancy loss has been like wandering a tunnel in the dark.
I went back to work shortly afterwards, after a week of living in my cocoon of a bed. One of the toughest obstacles was facing a coworker who shares my due date. She is exactly as pregnant as I should be. I teared up when I saw her, I couldn’t speak to her, I stared down at my food when she waddled into the room, rubbing her lower back. She was nearly as afraid of me as I was of her, avoiding me like the plague, no doubt feeling confused about how she might ever be able to talk to me again. I made the first step, just a simple Hi, How’s it going? It felt huge at the time.
Now looking back, that seems so long ago. I don’t cry when I see pregnant women, I don’t tear up whenever I see a newborn baby, I don’t even hide photos on facebook posted by friends with two kids and a brand new little one in the home.
Lucky for me, I work in a school, and was soon released to summer vacation. Time away from students, constant reminders of families that didn’t lose their babies. Time away from the risk of awkward comments and tears (one parent, after my absence, asked how I was doing. I quietly responded, fine, thanks. Her six year old daughter asked, why mom? She’s going to have a baby! said mom. I shook my head no and dashed from the room to cry in a back storage room over dusty forgotten textbooks and bins of pipecleaners. Then promptly cleaned myself up to go and paint faces at our end of year party.) And time away from the daily mirror image of the pregnancy that I no longer have, but that my coworker, apparently not that 1 in 4 who miscarries, still has. Whew.
I’ve let myself forget about these things. I’ve enjoyed my summer, been on some wonderful travels around the country, visited family and friends, lounged in the sun, sand between my toes, drunk wine, eaten copious amounts of cheese, happily scoured antique stores, read books in the grass. It’s been lovely.
But it’s vacation, isn’t it. The days are getting cooler and cooler, and even here in the north, the days are getting shorter and dwindling to fall. This morning, the fog rolled in and out over the fields like deep sleeping breaths, the white skies reminiscent of January.
School is coming again, and with it, a reminder every day of where I am not. Daily reminders up until the moment that she happily departs for maternity leave. Then will come that day when a staffroom announcement is made, she’s had the baby.
And I didn’t.
For now, I’ll hide the photos that pop up on Facebook. I’ll cling to this lovely summer a little longer, and hope the sting of September isn’t quite what I imagine it will be. I got through it then, I’ll get through it now.