I talked to an old friend yesterday. One of those friends who you keep in touch with only once a year or so but its very easy to just have that infrequent conversation.
She has had a very rough life situation the past year- her husband racked up tons of credit card debt, stopped paying their bills/mortgage and they lost their house (they have 3 children). She has been through the wringer with this and it’s still a big mess to continue to ‘fix’ as best she can with lawyers and such.
She said she wanted to talk to me because I wasn’t as close to the situation and didn’t live in the same town. She feels she has effectively lost 90% of her friends she would have defined as close because of this awkward horrible situation her husband put her in. These friends were the ones she did coffee with every week and the ones who called themselves auntie for her children, etc. She imagined that they just didn’t know what to say to her so they have just cut her off.
Sound familiar? I haven’t shared my history with this friend beyond her hearing about my 16w loss of Abby. She doesn’t know about any of the other babies, nor does she know there won’t be any more that I carry in the future (I just wanted to let her talk, it wasn’t the time or place for me to share). But the similarities of how we both feel following a significant loss/situation just blew me away.
I really think my friendship is over with a good handful of friends. I don’t know how much more understanding I am supposed to be over the fact that they couldn’t bother to contact me or talk to me after my latest miscarriage. It’s odd, because these were the friends who actually knew I was pregnant (the ones who call me now are the ones who didn’t know). They had been so ‘happy’ for me when I told them at 12 weeks that I was pregnant. And now I haven’t heard from all but one of them (in my supposed close group). I put myself out there and invited them to my Sweetie’s upcoming 2nd birthday party. I didn’t hear from a single one, not a single ‘hey, got the invite, sorry we can’t make it. BTW, how are you guys doing?’ I don’t think it’s possible to feel more deserted or alone by the people you called your friends. I guess I just picked the wrong people or mistakenly counted on the wrong people to be there in hard times.
And now, even if they did come back in awhile, I wouldn’t trust ever again that they could be there. Maybe we could repair a surface relationship, but I won’t ever let myself open up to them again. You shouldn’t need walls up to protect yourself from ‘friends’ abandonment. It’s just awful to feel this alone.
Where do all the friends go when you have a major loss? Have yours stuck by your side or do you feel more alone than ever?
I (thought I) had a great core group of friends who all knew I suffered from RPL, we were all first time moms with one child each about the same ages. They were all excited when I told them at 12 weeks that I was pregnant, because they knew I had been through so much to get there. Two of them were trying to get pregnant at the time (I was helping one of them with her questions about infertility as she wasn’t ovulating), one has an IUD (doesn’t want another baby yet), and the last one thinks she’s too old (has one tube and pretty bad pre-eclampsia with her only child).
I haven’t heard from any of them in weeks. I texted them on that horrible Mother’s Day in a shock, because I was sitting there alone, had already texted my husband and just didn’t know what else to do. Since that day, I have gotten a smattering of texts, two FB private messages, and one of them came over once for a playdate. In 8 weeks.
On the one hand, I don’t blame them in the least. I don’t want to be around myself- I’m depressed, angry, cry at random things at random times, etc. I try to keep it in check when I’m in public, but I’m sure I’m not coming across as perky or over-the-top fun right now. I know people don’t know what to say- most people don’t want to say the ‘wrong’ thing (or sound like an insensitive jerk) for fear of making it worse. And the two who are trying to get pregnant, I kind of get that, too. Honestly, I don’t know if I could take watching a swelling little bump on either of them right now (granted, I have no idea if either or both are pregnant yet).
On the other hand, I feel so dropped by my friends and alone in the world that it’s not even funny. Aren’t your good friends the one who don’t care if you are crying at random times about your lost baby? Aren’t they the ones who are supposed to ask how you are and if you respond with a lie that you’re ‘ok’ that they push for a real answer? Aren’t they the ones who come over anyway when you’re sitting by yourself or make plans they know they can include you in?
I told at least 3 of the 4 via text or FB that I felt much safer with home playdates- I hate going to public places where I don’t know how many pregnant women I’ll see and I really hate the random trigger that makes me cry in public. So I’m totally ok when they go to the public kids play gym and don’t invite Sweetie and me. Then why do I see on Facebook that they all met at someone’s house for a playdate in the backyard and never invited us? Ouch. My husband says I should just be the social coordinator and invite them, but I feel like I have a majorly hard time reaching out right now- I just feel so freaked about rejection and so overwhelmed at trying to make plans for a group, that I just don’t feel like I can. One more reason to shut down Facebook so I don’t have to see all my old friends having a fun summer without us.
I’m not a typical blogger. I’ve found many blogs that I like to check into every now and again, but I’m not a writer. I like to ramble and don’t want to have to edit my stream of thoughts.
But I’ve found myself feeling so completely alone after my last miscarriage, miscarriage #6. The one that happened after a dozen ultrasounds assured me that my baby was healthy, growing on track, perfect. There are groups on Facebook that talk about recurrent miscarriage and groups on BabyCenter to talk about losses in the 2nd/3rd trimester, and then there’s supposed to be my friends in real life. Oh and my husband (who truly is a wonderful man, btw). And yet it still feels like there’s no one there. No one who understands, no one who wants to understand. Hell, if it wasn’t my life that I was dealing with, *I* wouldn’t want to understand. I don’t want to be around myself so why should I expect that anyone else wants to be around me?
So I’m putting it out here. Maybe someday I can look back and see how far I’ve come. Maybe I’ll read my ramblings and make sense of it all.