Rebuilding Myself

When I rush out of the room, I am not trying to be rude, I just can’t take the conversation or your baby anymore.

I don’t mean to be snarky or mean, but sometimes it has taken every piece of energy I have just to get out of bed and make it to work, being nice to well-intentioned but ill-informed people is just beyond me right now.

I need to talk about my babies, it doesn’t make me sadder or more upset.  In fact, I actually find it theraputic to speak of the joy they brought to my life, even if it was such a short time.

I am not a transmittable disease and I promise I won’t bite.  It hurts when I see you avoid me in the halls because you don’t know what to say.

When I do laugh, have a good time, or even venture to holding a newborn, please don’t look at me like I am some strange form of alien … I am working to find a new “normal” where all these things are necessary.  I would prefer not to be analyzed while I figure them out.

I don’t see life quite like you do anymore, I don’t take pregnancy and babies for granted.  This doesn’t mean that we can’t still be friends, just that our opinions won’t always be the same.

“Me” still exists and needs you … I just also need your understanding and care as I work through the difference this has made.

My world has fallen apart, and it will take time to put it together again.  Please be patient with me.