Envy and a pale shade of jealousy

“In any war story, but especially a true one, it's difficult to separate what happened from what seemed to happen. What seems to happen becomes its own happening and has to be told that way. The angles of vision are skewed. When a booby trap explodes, you close your eyes and duck and float outside yourself. .. The pictures get jumbled, you tend to miss a lot. And then afterward, when you go to tell about it, there is always that surreal seemingness, which makes the story seem untrue, but which in fact represents the hard and exact truth as it seemed.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried

So here we are. Getting back into the groove. Laundry is getting done, I'm cooking meals, and I'm trying to reclaim the former person I was. Moreover, I'm working on repairing relationships that suffered.

Getting back into a routine is pertinent to my healing process. It's something tangible I can control; it's comforting to wake up knowing there is something to do. Life gets pretty bleak when your day consists of wearing your husband's bathrobe and watching Nick Jr. Being powerless is terrifying.

But like I said: here we are. Getting back into the groove.

My body is beginning to heal and, with each passing day, it's closer to forgetting the miscarriage. It keeps on ticking, a well oiled machine consisting of processes and systems with specific jobs to ensure function. And though my body is moving forward, my heart is left behind. There's an aching hole there - a hole that carries what should have been.

On one hand, trying to get pregnant again seems like a good idea. That's what I wanted in the first place. Right? Unfortunately for me, it's not that easy. Because the grieving process vastly differs for each individual, trying again is moving too fast; almost as if we're forgetting too soon. It feels like we're trying to bake cupcakes, but dropped the flour. Oh, well, let's just go to the store and buy new flour. Let's replace what we can. This statement really isn't fair because it's not that black and white; children aren't cupcakes and everyone has their reason for trying, or delaying, to conceive. There's no set time to grieve. I get that. But I wonder where the light is at the end of the tunnel.

Recently, Kevin and I discussed our goals in terms of pregnancy. I confessed to feeling overwhelmed, especially because Emma is in the midst of an extremely difficult time. Can I handle a newborn? Can I handle 2 a.m. feedings and breast feeding again and trying to haul two ginger monsters around? Kevin agreed and suggested I go back on the pill. In that moment, a tiny part of myself shattered because I desperately wanted him to disagree. I wanted him to fight and stand up for my mothering abilities! I wanted him to feel the conviction I do. It doesn't matter that I agreed to waiting - that's not what I felt once the words were actually said aloud.

Going back on the pill, in my eyes, represents failure. It symbolizes me failing to carry this pregnancy to term. These feelings of being overwhelmed and questioning if I am a good mother are stem from doubt.  Even though the miscarriage was purely an act of nature, I carry this doubt within me. It's in all that I do. It's a bed of weeds killing my assertive and confident nature.  How would I ever put myself back together if I had another miscarriage? How on earth would I be whole?

And I am envious. Holy fuck, almighty I am envious! Six women I know have announced they're expecting. Don't get me wrong - I'm happy for them. They deserve the joy a child brings! And yet...it doesn't change the fact that I want to be pregnant. That I want to be where they're at. It doesn't change that I am carrying envy within me. It doesn't change that I am struggling with differentiating between forgetting a child to be and remembering all that I wanted for them.

But I'm not jealous. Well, maybe a teensy bit. Maybe the slightest pale shade of green. It's like a moss or a fern green. Don't confuse this with asparagus or sea green. We'd have quite the problems if I were, gasp, forest of shamrock green!

Though both terms are often used as synonyms for one another, they're not. Jealousy is an emotion in which you want another person, such as when you're jealous of a woman who married your long time (ex) boyfriend. You want that person - nobody else will do. Envy, however, encompasses coveting another person's accomplishments or coveting objects. An example of this would be if your best friend won an awesome trip to Thailand, for instance.

I'm happy for these women. I really am! Being a mother is very challenging, yet also rewarding and represents unconditional love. I totally welcome them into the Mommy Club with open arms. Step on in - there's enough diapers and boo boo kissing for everyone!

It's a crappy place to be in - to want something so badly and to be fearful of what happens once you get it. It's a crappy place to be carrying doubt and feelings of emptiness in every action.

 How will I untangle myself? How will I not destroy everything I love because I'm so scared of "replacing" something I care deeply for?