Saying Goodbye to the Year that Should Have Made Me a MotherAela Mass
Jeez, my posts sounds so depressing sometimes–even to me. I’ve said before that there are some days that I’m not even sure how I make it through the day. Losing your twins in the 2nd trimester changes you. It did me.
But for all the terrible days I had this past year, I had plenty of good mixed in there, too. In fact, more good than my life has seen in many, many years.
Saying goodbye to the year that should have made me a mother is bittersweet.
Even though I technically lost my babies in 2012, it was so close to the end of the year that it spilled right over into 2013. And since my babies were due in May of this year, it just seems like a very compressed year. At least, I like to condense it all into 2013, so as not to take up more of my life.
Leave it all neatly packaged into one calendar year. That’s the least I can do for my Type-A personality–which, by the way, was tossed into a whirlwind when my water broke at 17 weeks.
I slowly–very slowly–began to regain some semblance of normalcy (and control) of my emotions by late winter of this year. Though all that really means is that my unexpected and uncontrollable crying could be mostly kept in until I got behind closed doors, and not in the office, supermarket, changing room, car, movie theater, elevator, anywhere really.
This year should have made me a mother.
But it didn’t.
There’s nothing I would have wanted more.
There are days I wallow in sadness and self-pity. Truly, wallow. I’m not too proud to admit it.
Sure, there are worse things in the world than what happened to me. Bigger tragedies. Greater heartbreak. But still, at times, I wallow.
I look forward to the coming year. To having cycled through the first 365 days after my tragedy. It gives me a sense of closure to be able to end 2013, and leave the sadness behind me. I know it will never be gone–the sadness. But nothing will be worse than passing the first due date, the first Mother’s Day, the first summer at the beach, the first apple picking, the first Thanksgiving, or the first Christmas without my babies that should have been there.
Maybe I’m fooling myself. Maybe my Type-A personality wants to believe that it will be easier, better, less sad in 2014.
Or maybe a new year is just what we need.
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