The dreaded Due Date

I am sorry it has been such a long while since I last posted. I’ve found myself in a rut after yet another hopeful and failed cycle. I’ve been fortunate to have traveled less frequently for work and more frequently for pleasure. My best friend, my brother, married his beautiful bride this past weekend. I was able to go home on Labor Day weekend to spend the week with my family.

I knew the week would be hard, I knew the wedding would be harder. You see, it was the weekend I had been looking forward to and dreading all.year.long; my expected due date. I had hoped and prayed that I would miraculously be pregnant to make it a little easier, but life isn’t always easy.

The night before the wedding, my brother had a party with all of his out of town guests. At one point, he was hidden away upstairs asking to talk to me. I sat in this room, as my brother told me that I was causing the most friction and push back giving him second thoughts about my feelings of the bride. She had done her best to include me on all events, brunches, spa days, and bachelorette parties while I had done my best to distance myself. In addition to being busy in my own life, I just couldn’t handle being a part of the wedding. After we lost the baby, my brother begged and pleaded for me to once again be a part of the wedding party; but my heart just wasn’t in it. Just like a pregnant friend, I was so happy for them, but jaded by the sadness I felt for me.

I cried as I sat with him. I apologized a thousand times for hurting him, and for making his bride feel as though I didn’t like her. This whole week is saturated with my feelings of loss, resentment and sadness. I should be 40 weeks pregnant or holding my baby boy in my arms; but I am (as always) a childless mother.

Mr.A made me promise to wait until Sunday the 11^th to test so that Saturday would truly be all about them. I agreed, but gave in to the pressure on Saturday morning. After having been the sober, responsible one all week carting my drunk family home from dinners, parties and gatherings; I was actually slightly relieved when I saw the stark white test. I needed to put my feelings aside and celebrate the happiness and love shared by my brother and his bride.

The wedding was beautiful. The sermons and songs were beautiful, but I still cried. I cried happy tears and sad. I cried because it was beautiful, they were beautiful, but also I cried because of the emptiness I feel in my heart and body.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself at the reception. I enjoyed my time with my best friends, closest family, brother and sister-in-law, and mostly Mr.A. We enjoyed the wine, took ridiculous photos in the photo booth, danced the night away and most of all, enjoyed each other’s company.

When I left, I felt a sense of closure and relief; I made it through. It wasn’t easy, but I made it.