I was sitting at my desk yesterday when my coworker told me that her daughter has a due date now. My coworker (we will call her Nice Lady), told me a few weeks ago that her daughter is pregnant. I will admit to a twinge of jealousy, but aside from that, I felt ok. I felt happy for Nice Lady and her family. Nice Lady started to ask me what tests I had when I was pregnant as she is concerned about some of the tests that have been suggested for her daughter. Concerned in that she did not understand what some of them were for. Since I was high risk (I was 36 years old), I had a whole barrage of tests and Nice Lady knew this since she often saw me come and go from various appointments. I was glad she asked me and did not shy away from talking about my pregnancy.
Next thing I knew, another coworker went over to Nice Lady’s desk and started to talk over me. This coworker, (we will call her Not Nice Lady), started saying some of the opposite of what I saw saying. In her opinion, all the tests put the baby at risk and are done for no reason but to scare the mother. I am not sure what else she said as she was rude enough to ignore me during the whole conversation. She butt into a conversation that had nothing to do with her because she felt like she had something to say. Not Nice Lady is not someone I am close with so I should not have been annoyed, and yet I was. She has not said one word to me since I have been back in the office. But she sure has plenty to say now. She who smokes a pack a day (and did during her entire pregnancy, too) is allowed to say what she wants because she has a living baby at home. Guess since my baby died, my opinion does not matter.
I am not sure if Not Nice Lady even knew she was cutting me off, but it stung. When she walked away, Nice Lady tried to talk to me again, but she must have heard something in my voice as she let it go. I put my ear buds back in, blared some Barenaked Ladies, and got back to work. Work, which is supposed to be my escape, turned into a place where I felt my experience meant nothing because my baby died. I lost the right to talk about prenatal testing because I do not have a baby at home. And that just sucks. I sit here with my stomach still stretched out from carrying a baby to term and yet I am not an authority on babies. Sigh.
The world is full of insensitive people. This is not news. But it’s still infuriating!
Monday will be 4 months since we lost Allie. That got me to thinking – do we want to celebrate the day we lost her or the day she was supposed to arrive in this world? Gary wants to celebrate the May date that she was due, but I can’t help but realize that she came in April, whether we like it or not. But regardless of the date, what do we do? A party? A balloon release? I have read so many posts from Baby Loss Mom’s and those seem to be 2 of the biggie’s. Well, a party with no baby seems hard for me and I am not sure how the balloon thing would work out logistically. A prayer service? Not my style. A memorial? Oh, that is so sad. I want it to be something positive to honor her and not something to make us all crumble to pieces. Will I be pregnant with Allie’s little brother or sister by then? I so desperately want to make sure that our first born, the love of our lives, gets the respect that she deserves.
Huh. I sure sound like a mom when I read what I wrote. Maybe I do know something about babies after all. And maybe I don’t. But please let me figure it out on my own. Let me talk about my pregnancy and my baby. It’s not the end of the world – unless I let it be. And I won’t.