I have recently discovered Etsy.com.
I freaking LOVE this site. I could spend hours just browsing. What's really funny is I would have NO time for this in a regular mall or store. I'm not the type of person who goes shopping just to go shopping (unless it's in a bookstore). But I'm a huge fan of Internet browsing. I started off looking for a nice Aidan commemorative necklace that I would like to get. I have a few ideas in mind. Then I branched out thinking I could get some (very) early Christmas shopping done. I have a few things picked out for my sister-in-law and my friend and her daughter. I see a ton of wonderful things that I want, and at a click of a button they could be mine.
If only the rest of life could be like that.
As I'm browsing along, I'm reminded of shopping for my wedding. I spent A TON of time on-line (over the TWO YEARS I was engaged) finding ideas and things to make my day special. And it was. My day was awesome and came off without a hitch. I have nothing but wonderful memories of planning my wedding and I enjoyed the day immensely. My planning paid off in spades.
I wish planning my baby(ies?) was like that. I miss that sense of certainty about my future. I miss the idea that if I work hard enough, plan enough, save enough, am organized enough, that I can make my dreams come true.
What makes it so hard sometimes, is that I know it is that easy for some people. My cousin and his wife got married last September. It was his second marriage, her first. They had a baby in June of this year. Doing the math, I realize they must have gotten pregnant either the first or second cycle after they got married. They had the on-line equivalent of clicking "Add to Cart" and then "Proceed to Checkout".
I've never really been a jealous person. The only time in my life I've felt real envy was just after I decided not to pursue medical school. Then I would run into old friends who were in med school, or saw groups of students leaving the Medical Sciences building at my University and knew they had succeed at a dream I once held (and felt sadness giving up). But even then I was able to console myself with the fact that I COULD have been one of those students if I had wanted to keep working at it. If I had applied and kept applying until I made it. Could have done it if I had gone overseas or to the States. If I had really REALLY wanted to, I could have been a doctor. Could still be, I suppose.
But there is no consoling myself with the loss of Aidan. I did my absolute best to keep him safe. I did everything right. I rested, I ate well, I took vitamins, I drank water, I saw specialists, I prayed. And he still died.
My best wasn't good enough.
And there is no guarantee that it will ever be good enough. That my body will ever produce a living, healthy child the way I want it to. No guarantee that my heart will withstand the extra strain and grant me a long life with my (pleasepleaseplease) future child. No guarantee I will ever take my own child to the zoo, like we did last weekend with my friend's daughter. No guarantee I will ever shop on Etsy for things for my baby, and not someone else's.
I wish I could have a guarantee. Is that too much to ask?
Have you ever been jealous of anyone outside of being a babylost mama? When and why? How does the jealousy of those who aren't part of the dead baby club compare?