Do they know?

Lately, I've really been struggling with feeling like people don't get it. I'm talking about the "normal" people out there. The ones whose lives haven't been ransacked and ravaged by the loss of their own child. I don't expect people to know what it feels like if they've never suffered through it, but I at least wish I knew for certain that there's understanding and remembrance. Acknowledgment.

Is this a projection that I'm forcing upon myself? Trying to sabotage myself into believing that those closest to me have forgotten the very thing that defines me? Yes, I am defined by the loss of my daughter. That's all I see when I look at myself. It laces every thought. It's always there. It doesn't go away. Right now, my life revolves around it. I'm not being pessimistic or dramatic. It's the truth. I am the childless mother. Everything everywhere points it out and re-reminds me constantly. And each month that passes and I'm still not pregnant, while so many around me find success, it eats at me.

Do people really know what goes on after the loss of a baby? It's so easy for everyone else to move on and return to their lives. But for Daniel and me... Avery was going to be our life. So what do we return to besides our empty arms? We buy Christmas decorations for a grave while the world around us buys 'Baby's 1st Christmas' bibs and onesies for their breathing, living bundles of life. We include our dead baby's name on our Christmas cards and we fear judgment and ridicule while others adorn their cards with sweet smiling photos of their chubby, thriving miracles. This is no longer "the most wonderful time of the year." It's tainted. Everything is. Someone is always missing. And it feels like no one remembers that. Why can't people mention Avery? Why can't anyone acknowledge that she should be here? Does anyone think about her without my mentioning her? Do people ever hug and kiss their babies and think of me, knowing I can't do that? Do they realize the blessing in their arms when they think of me? I don't think mothers like me are the only ones who appreciate their children. But I would like to think that those who know of what happened to our baby would be extra grateful for theirs. Or would give extra squeezes to their little ones after imagining themselves in my shoes. Maybe I would just like good to come out of something so wretched. If I can inspire extra gratitude... even a "Thank God I'm not Nicole" then that could be good, I guess. I think I just want to be acknowledged. And not for me. But for Avery. I don't want her to be forgotten, like she doesn't matter. Like she's not a part of this family.

I wonder if everyone thinks Daniel and I are okay. They see us laughing and acting like we used to. Do they assume we're "over it?" We have no choice but to act normal. Most times we like to avoid that awkwardness we're made to feel when mentioning our dead baby, though we do love to talk about her. We talk about her together all the time. We talk about what she should be doing, whether she'd be sitting with us or if she'd be napping. She's a part of our every waking thought. Why are people so afraid to bring her up?

But this is what has been plaguing me the past couple of weeks... Do people really know? Do they realize what a hell on earth this is? How much further than the funeral this goes? Do people just view me as 'not pregnant' anymore? Do they realize someone is missing from our family and always will be? Do they know when my husband cries because he misses our little girl, I feel incredibly guilty because it was something in my body that killed her? I know it's not my fault, but had he married probably anyone else, he'd have living children. I can't help but think about that. Do people understand the devastation this loss leaves in its wake? Just because Avery never took a breath in this world, doesn't mean we didn't know her enough to love her. I really believe that's how so many people view the situation. But those people also don't know that Avery was loved and so dearly wanted long before she was even conceived.

I don't know why I feel so defensive. No one has said anything ignorant or hurtful. Not many have really said anything. I think that's my problem. I really don't want to feel like Avery doesn't matter. She is our child. It doesn't matter how long she was here or how many people knew her or how much time passes since she died. We love her, she's ours, and that's all that should matter. I just wish I knew that people remember her and think about her. When you're in my shoes, acknowledgment is everything.