The Frenemy

The Frenemy.

Mine is Facebook, I use the messanger app nearly every day to keep up with friends and family, but I can’t think of the last time I actually went on Facebook unless it was just to untag myself from the random crap my Bio dad calls to my attention. I like unicorn stuff, but you know, not quite that much!

I haven’t scrolled through or been on Facebook properly until today and yesterday. I have two high-school friends who have just had baby girls, and one who hasn’t popped yet.

I knew about 2 of the pregnancies, one of the girls who’ve popped their sprogs already , and the one who is now overdue with her second baby, but the third one, the one I was actually closest too in high school but no longer really talk too, I had no idea she was pregnant let alone just had a baby girl.

I now remember why I don’t go on Facebook, its much easier to hear about this stuff face to face from one of my close friends who will tell me the gossip, but also change the subject if it needs changing.

I talk babies a lot and I like babies a lot, but my baby exposure is always pretty carefully managed, and no matter how much I dote on and adore my baby niece, every time I see her I invariably end up crying after they’ve left.

Earlier this year was really hard when we passed what should have, could have been Réaltas due date, and this month is going to be the second due date without Emmet. His ‘not a first’ birthday. It sucks. I miss my bloody kids and this whole loss business isn’t fair.

Grief plays Dirty.

Typing Congratulations! She’s adorable! Xx the words feel like Ash in my mouth because I know if I see them in town I’m ducking into the nearest shop to avoid saying hello. Their babies are cute in the weird potato like way all newborns are cute, but I don’t want to be anywhere near a non family baby.

Family babies are easier, I already love them, but the offspring of various ex hight school companions don’t quite hold the same place in my heart. It feels like a kick to the teeth every time I see a smiling family photo.

The new babies of the women I’ve met in the loss community are easier again, I only see them on Instagram, I can hit the unfollow button without causing offence, unlike crossing the street. The mums with babies I do follow are the ones I’ve been close with since day one, I know the struggle many of them have been through to get there, and when they do I am genuinely happy for them. I am overjoyed and filled with hope when they bring home a ‘rainbow’ (not a fan of the troupe if I’m honest). Those little bundles of joy give me hope that the babies of my ex schoolmates just don’t, I feel bitter and sad when I see their babies, as if their lives have been neatly handed too them on a platter.

The ex schoolmates with babies honestly takes me right back to the horrible feelings of failure I felt directly after losing both Emmet and Réa, I felt like I had failed at the most intrinsic parts of motherhood, and seeing their babies just sets me back months, years now, from where I’ve dragged myself too.

I know they’re going to have their own struggles, and one of the little girls of my ex maths classmate is Premature and has gone home with a feeding tube, so I know their journey has had a rocky start, but I can’t find the emotional energy to be compassionate in the way I would like. I can’t offer the comfort of the fact I was a feeding tube fed baby in the 90s and that technology is better than it was, I can’t offer to make baby clothes for the girl I was once good friends with, because that would mean a conversation I’m not ready to have.

I am pretty emotionally tired by this point in June, and July isn’t set to be any easier. I don’t think there’s really any part of the year that isn’t a little bit difficult after two losses, no matter how early they were their little lives have been stamped on my heart in a way I can’t hope to ever explain.

Love and support,

Zoë xxx

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