We have new tenants in our first floor apartment who have a 5-month-old daughter. They are really great people and somehow because their child is a girl, it is easier for me than I expected having an infant in our house would be. I can be around them with the baby, put I can't hold the baby. I don't feel angry or get weepy- although I moved immediately away from a woman who sat next to me on the subway with a newborn in a sling on Friday. I feel a soft longing that is new- motivating my adoption research.

I feel I've moved to a different place that can be surprisingly okay but is also more unpredictable. After we lost Tiger- for me it was clear- I simply could not be around newborns, pregnant woman or even be near a conversation about either. Now, that clarity is blurred and I can never be sure how I’ll react.

A, the new mom in our house was joking around with us at our stoop sale yesterday. (She doesn't yet know about our losses) She said that at a stoop sale you just want people to take your stuff- it doesn't matter what they pay really. Like the baby- $20 would be fine, just give me some time to myself. Now of course she didn't mean it AT ALL. She's all about her daughter. It just struck me that innocence we've all lost- how none of us could/will ever be able to joke like that. Ever. And this world we live in now- it's like 'a body in pain': others simply cannot understand what they have not felt. That blissful ignorance- what I wouldn't give.

But I just smiled. A few months ago I would have started hyperventilating and excused myself in tears. It's changing- the sorrow and grief- it's still there but it’s changing.

Has it changed for you? Do you believe that it will?

Yes it does change. Then it shifts back. Just when I feel I've climbed that particular mountain - say, holding a baby - I can't do it again. Some days, it's a gentle lapping of the ocean. Peaceful, a little mournful, a pang of sorrow. Some days, it's a rip tide grabbing me and dragging me out to sea while I struggle not to drown in the grief.

Somedays, pregnant women are easy for me, and new babies are to coo at and flirt with. Other days, it is sheer torture and I think if I see one more email about poopy diapers or struggles with solids from my friends I will die.

I think that unpredictability is one of the things I struggle with. I can't just 'get over it' and be happy for my friend on a bad day for me. I'm touchy and short-tempered sometimes, and I can't tell you what the trigger will be or when it will happen. His due-date? Not a big deal. Mother's Day (a hallmark holiday I used to mock)? Brought me to my knees and I'm only just recovering.

I do think it gets a little easier each time; perhaps a little like running or lifting weights. You keep pushing forward, you keep increasing your distance or your pace or the weights or the reps, and that's good, but sometime it hits you how far you've come or how fast you are running, or how much you are lifting, and you really *feel* it in that instant and it weighs you down. Then you pick up and go on again.

Like Eliza said, moving through the stages of grief has been more of an unpredictable (and very messy) ebb and flow, rather than a well-defined progression.

For the past few weeks, I have been suffering from depression, as well as yearning for isolation. (I was pleased to read the "depression and isolation" is an actual stage of grief. Oh, goody, I am normal). Then, just yesterday, I started contemplating contacting people (just contemplating, mind you, not actually reaching out...).

Being around babies and pregnant women is a huge litmus test in this process. I posted recently about how my sister is pregnant (due right before Christmas, which is when we lost our daughter). We were at my mother in law's yesterday when my sister in law showed up out of the blue. I actually felt panicked that I had to face her. Fortunately, I was able to sit down with her and spit out the word: "Congratulations." I cannot believe how difficult it was for me to say that. I was able to have a brief and calm conversation with her about her pregnancy (although I wanted to smack her when she started complaining about having to make time to go to all of her doctors appointments... Oh, gee, sorry you are so inconvenienced... grrrr...). I was just glad that I saw her and got the pregnancy acknowledgment out of the way without falling apart.

Oh, how I wish it really could be a smooth progression, where you know the absolute worst is behind you. However, there is some solace in knowing that the horrible bumps/backslides along the way are just part of the healing.

It's unpredictable here too. I can hold babies, and look at them, and even sometimes hear their cries and I'm ok. I can't deal with very very fresh babies, but it's unusual to have to, though even photographs of alive and very new newborns can totally floor me.
Just now I read a birth announcement on a forum I've used for years, and the baby shares a name with my Florence, only a middle name, but my heart skipped a beat..
What really shook me on Saturday was seeing my eldest DD,(she's 14) holding her new baby nephew. The first baby she's held since holding her sister after she died. I could see she was scared, she blushed,but she was happy to hold him, and it occurred to me that my DH has yet to hold a baby since Florence.
x

Eliza put it perfectly for us - it's an ebb and flow and sometimes it surprises me when we're triggered by something. I think the firsts are the hardest things to deal with - and there are a surprising number of firsts that we're mourning.

On Saturday we had to bail on my SIL's bday party. I can hold my niece Alice forever and she's only 3 months older than Foster would have been. But there was a new baby at the party, one born about 3 weeks before Foster and I lost it. Too many strangers, I just lost my job and this new baby is just a bit older than mine should be. I ran out, we bailed and went to a friend's place where we could take our masks off and be ourselves.

I think the key for me is to try all sorts of new situations and deal with my feelings as I see fit for that day, that scenario. Nothing is going to be consistent for a long long time and I have to be ok with that. This is a never ending process, one that will have good days and bad. As long as I'm honest with myself and Karl about what I'm feeling I hope to be ok.

Sarah, I just wanted to say that I am so sorry that you lost your job. How horrible. As if losing your son into enough of a burden to bear. Hang in there.

Thanks Steph. I'm feeling weak. Low. Used up. I attempted to look at a couple of potential employers about an hour ago - sent me into a panic attack. I have no idea how I'm going to do this. And TTC. And possibly ever have a career and a live baby. Everything is overwhelming.