Losing a child is like a huge sucker punch to the gut. It literally feels like this. And unfortunately it's like getting punched every morning, over and over again.
I have had so many swirling emotions since Georgiana died. Anger. Confusion. Sorrow. Frustration.
Yesterday, I was talking to one of my paralegals and she was telling me about a guy she knows who is probably cheating on his wife. They have a new baby.
I found myself thinking, "why does he get to have his baby and I can't have mine?"
I was very angry thinking about this.
I know in my head that life is unfair. Dave reminds me it's a fallen world. I know this. But sometimes it's hard to convince my heart of that, when everything screams inside of me how unfair this whole thing is.
How is it that people get to have children and then treat them terribly, or don't appreciate them? All I wanted was to be a mother to my child, and so much of that experience has been ripped from me.
I know, I know. Bad things happen to good people. I get it. But there is a part of me that doesn't want to get it, the part of me that knows no peace right now.
Then I went to the dentist today. For those of you that know me well, I never have a good time at the dentist. They always find something wrong with me. Today was no different, and of course, worse than ever.
Dentist: "So, what has changed in your medical history since last summer when we saw you last?"
Me: "Well, I got pregnant, and I lost my baby."
Dentist: "Yeah, miscarriages happen all the time."
Me: "I didn't have a miscarriage. I had a stillbirth."
Dentist: "A what?"
Me: "A stillbirth. I was full term."
Then the dentist gets his tool and starts to examine my mouth.
Me: (muffled, his hand is in my mouth) "What?"
Dentist: "You have a really bad cavity. One of your teeth is basically decaying out of your head."
Me: "Oh. Of course."
Dentist: "You know, I've been a dentist for nearly 30 years, and I can tell a lot about a patient's lifestyle just from looking at their teeth. You really need to stop drinking so much soda."
Me: "I don't drink soda. I drink about two Diet Cokes a week."
Dentist: "Oh...well, I guess it's just bad luck."
Me: (in my head) You've got that right.
So of course I get to go next week and have some massive dental work done.
I called Dave and told him, and he said, "well, that sucks, but it's not that big of a deal."
He's right. It's really not that big of a deal. Nothing really is anymore.
But it still sucks.
Life is just all about throwing the sucker punches lately. Compared to losing my baby, this is a small one. But I feel it nonetheless.