"You know what this is like. You lost a child too."
That is what my husband's cousin C wrote to me when I sent her an email expressing my sympathy over the passing of her son. What an amazing woman she is. To take the time out of her grief to acknowledge my daughter's short life. To have to presence of mind, and heart, to know that I was relating to her. I just don't think I'm as kind of a person as she is.
It's been 11 months since Brenna was born. I haven't wrote about this much, because I have a tendency to put things off and not face them. But the fact of the matter is that I can not believe that just 11 months ago I was pregnant. This time last year was a very happy time in my life. I was expecting my miracle baby, and my stepdaughter was planning her wedding. Even though I was feeling ill, life was good. I was looking at baby things, and picking out names. Last year on Super Bowl Sunday, while my husband went to a party I went out and bought baby things. Girl things, even though we had no idea Brenna was a girl, I just knew. One of those outfits is still hanging in my closet. I couldn't take it back. My life now is no where near the life I envisioned for myself this time last year. Nothing at all. Looking back on the past 11 months, it all seems like a dream. Like it didn't even happen to me. I have not shared that part of my life with the new people I've met since then. How do you? I feel that if I share that part of my life, they will start feeling sorry for me, and I do NOT like being THAT person. The poor deadbabymama that everyone feels sorry for. I don't want any one's pity. But, sadly, there really isn't anything else to feel for a deadbabymama except for pity, is there?