it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair

I've had a lot of time and opportunity lately to think about how unfair it is that we had to lose not just one, but two babies. I sit and wonder what I've done wrong in this life to deserve such pain, and honestly, I can't really think of anything. I've made just as many mistakes as the next person, but nothing so wrong to deserve this.

I think about all the crappy people in the world who don't deserve children. Parents that abuse their children. Neglect them. Lock them in closets or car trunks. Parents that sell their children for things no person should be sold for. Parents that yell at their children on a daily basis, that use cruel, obscene words at home or in public, and make their child feel like less than they are. There are also good people that simply don't have the means to provide for their children, no matter how much they wish they could. But I wouldn't abuse our children, and we have the means to provide, so why us? How the hell is this fair?

It's so nice to get messages or emails from people saying how much I have helped them, even if they haven't lost a baby. I'm glad I'm able to do something with this loss, but honestly, I would much rather have my babies than help anyone. And I understand that's a bit selfish, but I also know that any other parent in my situation would say the same thing.

Here's the thing. Every mother I've met that has lost a baby deserves to be a mother. They are not the kind of person you look at and wonder if they've ever been around children in their life. You can feel their motherly love resonating from their body. You can tell by the way they care for their husband or siblings or friends or absolute strangers that they are meant to be a mother. And it's so, so, so unfair that they had that ripped away from them. Some of us more than once, and for some people, more than one baby at a time. 

Growing up, our parents always tell us that life isn't fair, and that we should probably get used to it. The funny thing about that now is that we have watched our parents struggle with how unfair this is too. I think their definition of unfair was "sometimes you won't get the promotion" or "sometimes people are jerks." They never think unfair would be that sometimes you lose a baby. Or that sometimes you lose two.

I understand that this is not the worst thing that could ever happen in the world. I have lived a very privileged life, and I do realize that there could be worse things. But it's really really hard living in a state/stage of life where basically 70% of the female population is pregnant at any given time. I don't look at pregnant women and instantly hate them. Seeing their cute pregnant tummies make me miss mine. I would love to be pregnant all the time. And I don't hate women who tote around their newborns. It doesn't even bother me to be by babies anymore, and only rarely does it hurt when I hear one cry.

It sucks to talk to people and know that they have no idea who I really am. I'm not this innocent little girl anymore. I am a mom who's heart has been ripped out and shoved back and ripped out again. People look at me and they would never know I've had a baby. Two babies. With one, I was full term and full-pregnant huge, but you'd never know. They don't know about the stretch mark on my stomach that has faded too much for my liking. They'd never know that I have delivered a baby. Nobody would know any of this, because there's not a seven month old in the backseat of my car, or in his crib, or in the cart at the the store. And there's not a baby in my belly. I don't get to wander through the baby clothes or toys and buy things for either of them. I don't get to buy baby food. I don't get to buy diapers. I don't get to do any of that.

Instead, we get to buy flowers and take them to the cemetery.

I'm happy to have my babies as much as I do. But I would trade everything in the entire universe to have them just a little bit more.

Someone commented on one of my pictures the other day and told me how disgusted they were that I would share pictures of myself and Brandon in the cemetery. I told her that when this is all we have, it makes sense, and she fired back with some garbage about how intimate moments shouldn't be used for likes or comments, which is definitely not the reason I do what I do. I don't blog to get pity, or likes, or even to help people; I do it because it helps me, and sometimes I feel like it's easier to share my emotions with family and friends this way rather than through direct conversation. Her comments didn't upset me, because honestly she's no one to me (we don't even live in the same country. I thought Candadians were supposed to be nice?!), but I was still annoyed by it. Every other day this week, I've received messages from people letting me know how my blog has helped them, or that they think of Carter often, and those messages make the comments from crappy people disappear.

But it still makes me mad that people, like the two negative Nancy's I've dealt with and the tons of other garbage people who have rude things to say, feel like it's wrong for still parents to share anything, just because our baby isn't alive. I doubt that anyone would ever have commented on a picture of a mother and their live child and said how disgusted they are that the parent would share an intimate moment on social media. Just because our babies aren't alive doesn't mean that we don't love and care for them the same amount we would if they were alive. We're just forced to do it a bit differently.

It all just makes me mad. Makes me mad that we had to lose our babies, makes me mad that people don't understand, and makes me mad that I have to (somewhat) force the idea of my baby onto the world. It's not fair that it all feels fake. It's not fair that I don't have my babies.

I feel like I should apologize for writing this post, because it's super raw and negative. But these are my feelings, and if any of you (like the canadian) can't respect that this is my life, then you don't have to read these posts. Trust me, I'd rather be giving updates on my almost 8 month old, or sharing the bumpdates for little bean without the tinge of sadness, but it is what it is. We're here, we're sad, and we struggle to get through each day, but we do what we can and we keep moving forward.


**but honestly, the cover picture shows how loved and spoiled our babies are. thank you to everyone that visits them!