I’m dealing with my grief, still. I don’t really like talking about it much, but some things bother me. I feel like my baby doesn’t matter. Didn’t matter. Mom keeps talking about Rachel’s pregnancy and I hate hearing about it.
“Oh, it’s going to be so great to have a new baby around. That new-baby smell, those little cries. I can’t wait to rock him.”
I’ve hung up on her a few times already. She tries to call back, but I don’t answer. I texted her “Try to remember I lost my baby.”
I’m tired of hearing garbage like:
It’s all in God’s plan.
Everything happens for a reason
It wasn’t meant to be
At least you’ve got your other kids
It wasn’t even a real baby yet