I always assumed a due date was pretty exact. When I got pregnant, I found out that's not exactly true. In fact this "due date" seemed to be a bit hard to nail down even. My NFP teacher, my doctor, and my ultrasound tech all gave me different dates. All of them were in July.
I always accepted July 23rd as my due date.
My first due date is tomorrow. In my opinion it's the least likely to be correct as it was decided by the first day of my cycle with no regard for my actual cycle length. July 28th was deemed a due date by u/s tech and also seems unlikely to be correct. Taylor was probably too small because she wasn't going to make it.
No, July 23rd was my due date to me. So logically, that should mean that tomorrow should be fine. Just another day. And maybe it will be. But today isn't. Today I sit at my desk drinking coffee and clearly not nearly 40 weeks pregnant. Despite my lack of self esteem lately, I have a much better body than I wish I had just now. I should be giant and miserable and since I started drinking coffee only a month ago, it should still be repulsive to me. I should be completing Taylor's blanket and frantically checking every last detail for her arrival. Instead of clients calling to compliment my dedication to my job, I should either be off completely, or my coworkers should be grumbling behind my back about how I'm not focusing on my work. I should be a new mom, not an RE.
Jehovah Witnesses came to my house over the weekend to visit my husband (apparently their on a first name basis). I told them I'd pass along the message and as I closed the door they said "Someday soon, there won't be any suffering."
I can tell you without any doubt that today is not that day.
Unfulfilled due dates are extremely hard. I had a really hard time with the whole month of March that my son was due. Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteHello, I found you via Glow In The Woods.
ReplyDeleteI was just reading some of your posts. I can relate to so much that you write. You're in the "early" stages of your grief, and shock and trauma. What you write about your experiences is very similar to what I (and many others) experienced as well. Your isolation, your not wanting others to worry, it's all pretty "normal".
I've suffered three losses, my daughter Freyja (who was stillborn at 28 weeks), my son Kees (who died for unknown reasons when he was 7 weeks old), and my son Jethro (who died for unknown reasons when he was 3 days old).
Here's something no-one told me. When your child dies, you change. You change forever. You will never be the same person you were before.
And I don't agree with the JW's. The only time when there will be no suffering for me, is when I die. But then, no doubt, my death will cause others to suffer.
This month is my daughter's 5th angel-versary. She was stillborn on the 25th of July. We found out on the 24th of July 2006 that her heart had stopped beating. I can say without a doubt that my life changed forever on that day. And there's nothing I can do about it: I can only try to accept it.
Change and grief and trauma and acceptance all take time. Lots of time. Don't try and rush things.
Thinking of you.