Despite the fact that I blog, I live a very private, quiet existance. I work from home. I do not party. I stay in this house pretty much six days a week and go to church on Sunday, then come right home. I know my life would bore many to tears, but I promise that I'm quite happy. For a long time, I used to think I had tinges of agoraphobia!
What is agoraphobia?
fear of open spaces: a condition characterized by an irrational fear of public or open spaces
Well, I don't fear open spaces. In fact, I love the beach, wide open fields of flowers, the ocean, lakes, forests. So I guess it doesn't apply to me.
I also don't mind being in public. Or speaking in public, now that I'm thinking about it.
I guess I'm just private.
Private is not always a bad thing, peeps. If anyone has watched any TV lately, you'll notice reality shows are decidedly NOT PRIVATE. Anything goes! How you're feeling, your money situation, your relationship with husband, kids, family, co-workers...UGH. I can't even watch. I feel like I'm reading someone's diary when I see some of these shows! Not everything needs to be aired in public.
When I lost my baby, I should have told more people. Because it would have helped me to avoid the junk I am going through now. For the second time in a week, a co-worker (remember, they can't see me...I work from home!) asked me how the baby was doing, if I was feeling any kicks, if I knew what the sex was, and if I had names picked out.
The first time, I cried.
I'd be third trimester right now. I'd assuredly know the sex (I always felt my Fergus was a girl but I'll never know) and have the names picked out and probably my registry completed. I'd have completed the preregistration paperwork for the hospital, and be wearing maternity clothes.
This second time, I calmly explained to my coworker, who is a male and his wife is expecting a baby in September, what happened. He was horrified that he didn't know and kept profusely apologizing. No need, John. No need to apologize. You didn't know. "I wish I had known!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what I could have done, but at least I wouldn't have hurt your feelings today!"
I shared the news of my pregnancy early, with great joy and happiness. Sometimes, I wish I had done the same with the death of Fergus. She deserved that. She didn't deserve to be swept under the proverbial rug. She was as important in death as she was in life. Fergus, I didn't mean to pretend you didn't exist; you most assuredly were alive in my womb. I saw your heartbeat on ultrasound and you made me throw up and mess up my blood sugar readings. It's so much easier to share happiness than pain. This time, my need for privacy kept me from the comfort of friends. It's a difficult, blurry line; I tend to hold my feelings hostage and not share. This time, I should have. I should have let everyone know that my Fergus went to be with the Lord, and that I needed their love, their prayers, their comfort.
Friends are there through it all. Or rather, they should be. And I took away an opportunity from my friends to comfort me. I'll try to do better. For them AND for me.