Grief never surprises me

I don't mean to get all sappy on everyone but hey, this blog started as an outlet for my feelings right? Here it goes:

I have sorta been lying about something this whole time. Lying to all of you, lying to my husband and to my friends, and most of all...lying to myself.

I guess lying sounds so harsh, I guess its more like suppressing my feelings...on purpose.

I remember one of the first times someone asked me if we were going to try again, without any hesitation, I answered "yes". It seems like then, all of my fears were pushed aside by the fact that Brody was gone. Now, that the fog has cleared and I can see more clearly, getting pregnant again...scares the living crap out of me.

Simply put, I just don't know if I can do it again.

When someone announces their pregnancy like this "We are having a baby", the first thought in my head is "you don't know that for sure". That sounds horrible doesn't it? I never say it out loud or anything, but the assumption that pregnancy always leads to a baby...a baby that is alive and well never gets past my mind untouched.

I have researched "rainbow babies". Rainbow babies in the baby loss community means a baby after the loss of another baby. The rainbow after the storm so to speak. It happens, I mean, I'm very aware that I'm not the only person to ever have to bury their baby.

I talked to a mother a few months back who was expecting her rainbow baby and she said "If you wait till you aren't scared anymore, you will be waiting forever". I grasp that concept, I fully and completely understand that way of thinking and embrace it....but....I physically cannot put one foot in front of the other in this situation. I'm literally stumbling over the "what ifs" here. In some ways, I feel as if I have forgotten how to walk all together.

 On the other hand, I cant imagine living the rest of my life with the only memory of pregnancy being that it ended "the wrong way". Just today, I realized something. I have to "try again"...(I hate those words). I have to make Brody a little brother or sister (there,that's better). If I didn't, I would be letting the fear win, I would be letting the devil win and I'm not about to do that.

We visited Brody's grave this weekend. I was looking around and noticed a pin wheel off of a close by grave had flew off. I knew where it went so I went over to stick it back into the ground. Adam came over to help and I stopped in my tracks. There it was...ONE DATE. I knew what ONLY one date meant because Brody has one date. "It's a baby", I said to Adam. It was the first time that I really, really cried at the cemetery.

I cried a little the day we buried Brody but not very much since then. There I stood at another baby's grave and cried.  I cried for the baby, a poor innocent baby below my feet, and I cried for the family who had to suffer this pain...you know, the pain I live with everyday. My pain didn't occur to me while I stood there though, it was sympathy in its truest form. I then decided to walk around see how many other "one dates" there were. I came across two before my morning coffee started to "kick in"...and we left.

Grief never surprises me anymore. Grief made me cry today at the drop of a hat, without warning when discussing how much Brody looked like such mix of Adam and I. Grief kept me calm and relaxed this weekend while picking out the perfect headstone for my baby. Grief presents me with new fears of becoming a mother...again, and it also makes strive to fight those same very fears. Grief made me shed tears for a baby that I never knew or seen  and made me smile with pride at the grave of my own son. Grief never surprises me.