Almost a Year...

One year ago today, my baby was already dead inside of me, but I didn't know yet.  We spent the day at a park with Josh's family and grandmother who was visiting from out of town.  We went to an Irish pub for dinner and I had fish and chips.  The kids were talking about building a machine to shrink themselves to go on an adventure in a mini-submarine.  It wasn't until that night in bed that I noticed I hadn't felt her move all day. 

I feel incredibly alone right now.  It's no one's fault.  No one else can possibly experience it and remember it like I do.  Physically the whole ordeal is almost a year old now.  But in my mind I am reliving all of it, as though I were in the same place, lying in the same bed waiting and waiting for my baby to be born.  Except I was more numb then and I can feel more now.  I can attach thoughts and feelings to the experience with far more clarity.

When it was actually happening, everyone was aware of what I was going through....maybe even more aware than I was.  I was told to lay in the bed while my every need was anticipated.  They comforted me and brought me food and pumped me full of drugs.  But that time has gone and now I'm alone with my memories and life has gone on.  It may seem strange...I feel obligated to say that I'm glad I'm here now and not there then, but it's not true.  Of course I do not ever ever ever want to experience that kind of loss again, not a new one.  But since that is where my brain is, back close to a year ago, why can't my body be there too?  With my baby still inside me, the closest I ever was to her...with the whole world revolving around me and my loss and my pain...everyone caring for me in every way while I just lay there in sadness?  But no.  She is gone and everyone is living their lives while I am trapped in my mind completely alone. 

I know how selfish and self-pitying I sound.  Oh well.