A deeper understanding of acceptance

Everyday when I walk into work, I'm greeted with a huge billboard with the date and a list of employee birthdays. It's a nice touch and I usually give it a glance to see if there are any familiar names, but this morning I paused when I read the date: January 7th, 2010.

I know I've already mentioned that my EDD is approaching and I'd already seen that poster twice this week so I shouldn't have been that surprised, but for some reason the creeping date just made me stop for a moment and let it sink in a little further that it's finally here.

I don't have much to say about it. It's weird, but it's just a part of my life that I can't change. It happened. And 1/9/10 will be no worse a day than 8/26/09 and the days that followed. It's so weird that it's been four months since we let the baby go and thankfully time has been kind to me.

I guess I thought I'd feel worse this week, but I've just been forcing myself to focus on what is vs. what could have been--because what's the point? Wishing and wondering won't change reality. I am not a full term pregnant woman-- and I never was.

I look exactly like I did one year ago, but somehow I've changed. I've been to hell and back and survived.That's still very shocking to me. I'd say it's pretty amazing, but I know that so many people have been through much worse and survived.

When it all first happened, I was sort of thankful that if we were going to lose the baby that we were in a situation with a clear diagnosis and that we wouldn't be jerked around with hope. It was what it was. It made it easy to understand what we had to do--but it wasn't true acceptance.

When I was reading about grief, oftentimes they mentioned denial and bargaining as stages, but it was weird--I never went through that. I kept saying that I accepted it, but only now do I understand what acceptance is. And it's not even something that I'm sure that I can put into words. I had to go through months of sorting out what I felt, what I had lost, and how this fits into my life now. And it made me really sad, realizing the magnitude of what happened and how this will stay with me forever. And it was in that darkness and quiet that I just finally said okay--I give up.

I knew from the very beginning that while it had broken our hearts, it wouldn't break us. We could handle it and we did--even though we didn't want to. We've emerged stronger in many respects and very vulnerable in others--and I don't see anything wrong with being more sensitive to loss. It makes you a better friend and person.

I don't know how or why this actually happened and I refuse to speculate because it won't change anything. I wont say that anything good came out of this because the best thing didn't happen. As much as I hate it (and I hate this phrase), it is what it is.