Damn, It's Tuesday Again

Eighteen weeks without John. I would have been 35 weeks along. My other children were born at 38, 37, and 38 weeks. He would have been here in my arms in just a matter of weeks. His official due date is nearing: Saturday, September 12th.

I am having difficulty with this date, besides the obvious hurdle. One of our friends is due about the same time. I was excited for them and for us being due within weeks of each other, but now, their baby's eminent birth is another cruel reminder of how I won't be having a baby. I know that every time I see a picture of their kid, I will be reminded of how old our baby should have been. I am thrilled that they are having a healthy pregnancy. I just wish I could have too.

Luckily, for lack of a better word, these friends aren't particularly best friends and live a good twelve hours away. The chances of seeing them are faint. I am content with this because I don't want to see their baby. I just don't. I know I will have a morbid curiousity of what she looks like when she is born, but I have no desire whatsoever to ever, ever see her. And hopefully, their schedule will be too busy forever to come and visit us.

This may sound outright insane and I had thought so in the past. I was dumbfounded when other friends refused to see us when they lost their baby seven years ago. Seven years I know is when it happened because we had just had a baby. Months after it happened to them, they refused to see us anymore. No cookouts, no going out to dinner, no hanging out at the mall. They wanted nothing to do with us. My feelings were hurt and I was uncomprehending. Now? Now, I completely understand and hope that I never have to explain this to these other friends because I am not sure I will ever, ever, ever want to see them again. It's not their fault. I just don't think my heart can take it.