Breathe

Tonight started as a good night. My evening lecture went very well. I felt comfortable with what I was talking about and the students were interested and participated. I've had a very hard time getting back into the work routine since missing 2 weeks because of the miscarriage. Not because my work is especially hard (I've been teaching the same material now for almost 2 years, I've got it pretty well down I think), not because of my students being especially difficult (not this time anyway), not because of my boss being a pain. I've just had a very hard time getting myself back to giving a damn about it. I just don't care right now. I don't care about sociological theory. I don't give a damn about grading homework's or making up exams. I am really, really not in the mood to listen to students whine about this or that or argue with them about their work or attendance. I don't know what happened but I just feel like I don't have any energy to use on that stuff. It all seems so unimportant. And so when tonight went fairly well and I was feeling a little bit back to my old self at work, I came home pretty happy.
So I sat down at my computer and did my usual routine of signing onto Facebook to check in on what's going on with everyone. And I got hit with a looong stream of beautiful, amazing baby pictures and baby stories. Mom's holding their littlest ones, gushing about how wonderful they are. Families in their brand spanking new family portraits. Babies with their first teeth and toddlers with their first steps. And it literally took my breath away. I had to remind myself to inhale. I'm used to seeing lots of family pictures on FB, especially these days, it just seems to be a constant feed of pregnancy announcements and cute family anecdotes and so on. But tonight there just seemed to be even more than usual and it just hit me like a truck right in the chest, still feel the dull aching now. It feels very alone. And very empty. And very, very full of longing. I want that warm, cuddly, sweet tiny baby so badly and we were so close. But now it's gone and feels so, so far away again.
Of course, I'm incredibly happy for everyone I saw in the pictures tonight and see every day. They're all family or close friends and I love them all. Tonight it just hurt, more than I ever could have expected. It just hurts to see that they all have this amazing, central part of life that feels as far away as ever from us. So tonight I'll sign off and close the window and cry when I lay down in bed. And try hard to forget about the pictures and the aching and the fact that I'm back to being all alone in my body. Hopefully I'll fall asleep before I can think about all the 'what might have been's" and if I get really lucky, maybe I'll dream about all of the possibilities that are still out there.