A Different Story

Yesterday someone told me a story about another woman who lost her baby.  Her point in telling me the story was just to say that she never had any experiences with people losing babies, and now she knows tow people in a year who have lost a baby.  The thing is that the story she told me stirred up some emotions that are one of the worst parts of this whole experience.  Her story was that a woman she knows caught a very serious virus that sent her into premature labor at only 20 weeks.  they couldn't stop the labor, so the baby was born and lived for 12 hours.  I do not mean to take away from this woman's pain in any way, but hearing this story made me feel two very powerful and unpleasant emotions: anger and jealousy.  I was 26 weeks pregnant when my baby died.  My baby's chances of survival being born at that stage were over 85%.  Her baby was only 20 weeks and  LIVED for 12 hours.  She gets a birth certificate and a death certificate.  She gets to have her baby on the records of the church.  There is no question about whether or not she REALLY had a baby, or if that baby "counts" as part of her family.  There is no uncertainty on the part of family or friends about if her experience really counts as a real member of the family dying.  And those circumstances made me so envious.  So jealous of those twelve hours that changed everything for her, whether she realizes it or not.