Under the same happy-sad sky

It's interesting to me how we deal with other people's pain. A lot of times, it seems as though society says to ignore so that we don't remind them of it. As though if we don't say, "I'm sorry about what happened," or "I know today is a hard anniversary for you," they won't remember and won't be in pain.

That has to be ridiculous.

Another thing I wonder about is that feeling that if we are too sad for someone, we are somehow trying to take over their sadness. When do you cross the line of comforting someone into making them feel like they need to be comforting you?

Today should have been my friend's due date. She is keeping busy today, so I won't get a chance to talk to her, but I sent a card.

As I was writing the card, I hesitated. And then I got so mad at myself. Because how stupid am I to think that sending a card would just make her feel worse? That's crazy. But I find myself worrying about it.

Maybe she didn't want to think about it today. Maybe she didn't want to be reminded. Maybe I'm just making her more sad.

The fact of the matter is though, that I'm sad too. We were supposed to have our babies together. We were so stinking excited that our children would be just about the same age and get to play together. So I'm sad too. I'm sad for her and her husband, and I'm sad for Little Bird.

More than any of that though, I really felt like it was important that she know her child isn't forgotten. That just because we never got to meet her, and a lot of people didn't even know about her, that doesn't mean that she wasn't here and wasn't already loved.

It's lonely to think that you were the only person that loved your unborn child because you were the only one who really knew him. It's uncomfortable to get the feeling that people think you should be over it by now.

You never get over it. You just learn how to get around it.

As my pregnancies now overlap, I keep letting my mind traipse back to this time last year. I'm amazed at how much sadness is still there, coexisting with the happiness we have now.

This time last year, I was almost 3 months pregnant. Carrying a child that had died 3 days ago. This time last year, I was preparing for a trip to see my family and an old friend. I was planning baby names and baby rooms and baby clothes.

This time last year, I only had 16 days left with my baby and then he would be gone.

My count down on the sidebar says that I have 45 days left with this one. Of course, the big difference is that at the end of this pregnancy, I'll be holding my child no matter what.

There lies happy and sad together, with happy taking the lead again.

What I wish for more than anything today is that my friend has enough happiness mixed into the sad that she continues to find hope. Because there is hope. And she is going to be the most awesome mom in the world. I just know she is.