I should be lamenting how I’m going to leave my child to return to work. Instead I’m lamenting how I’m going to face pregnant women every day when I have no child.
I should be preparing myself to leave my baby in daycare for the first time. Instead I’m asking my husband to hide the now useless carseat we had bought.
I should be looking forward to questions about my baby. Instead I am thinking about how to answer those questions without crying.
I should be framing a picture of my baby to put on my desk at work. Instead I am wondering if people want to look at a photo of a dead baby.
I should be waking up in the mornings tired and grumpy from middle of the night nursing sessions. Instead I wake up in the mornings, nauseous, tired and sad beyond words.
I should be wishing I had time to exercise. Instead I am planning my day around exercise because I have no baby to fill my time.
I should be pumping my milk. Instead I am buying new bras because the old ones were stretched out from the week-long engorgement and the ice packs I used to make it go away.
I should be sharing my birth story in camaraderie. Instead I tell my birth story to validate that my daughter actually existed.
I should be frustrated I have no time to run to the grocery store. Instead I wait for Chris to come home so I won’t have enter the grocery store alone.
I should be worried about postpartum depression. Instead I am wondering how to tell the difference between postpartum depression and grief.
I should be reading “Goodnight Moon” to my daughter. Instead I’m reading my daughter’s autopsy report.
I should be complaining that 10 weeks is too early for a mom to leave her nursing baby. Instead I’m worried that people will think my grief is gone at 10 weeks.
I shouldn’t have the time or energy to read. Instead I am caught up on babyloss message boards and reading blogs and articles about others whose have held their babies as they die.
I should be eagerly awaiting the birth of my niece or nephew. Instead I worry about how I will manage my grief with the arrival of such happy news.
I should be making a baby book. Instead I am making a memory book.
I should be celebrating every Saturday that my baby is a week older. Instead I bring flowers to her grave.
I should be holding a baby. Instead I have nothing to ease the ache in my heavy, empty arms.