Den and I didn’t want to intrude on SIL and BIL during the first few weeks at home with the new baby, so we decided to bake some food and bring it over there, drop it off, and head on our merry way. We figured they could probably use some easy-to-eat food with how hectic things must be, right?

So we drive over there and find MIL over there visiting for the evening, BIL is cooking a nice dinner, SIL is dressed and has makeup on, and BabyH is peacefully asleep. We ended up getting invited to stay for dinner, and we did. It was nice to visit, but left us feeling a little dazed.

After dinner, when BabyH had woken up but just wanted to be held, I got to hold her for a while. I marvel at how a baby feels. So amazing. I’ve never really been around a newborn before, ever. Just so small, so soft. Holding BabyH seems to quiet the voices in my head temporarily… like everything is okay for a moment. Even though it’s not my baby. Even though I have to give her back. There’s still some kind of mystical perfection in the world when there is a baby asleep in your arms.

It’s afterward that it hurts. When I come home to my too-quiet house, to online chats and TV shows, to life as usual when all I want is to have no time for any of it. I want to spend all day reclining in a chair with a baby asleep on my chest… to just sit and stare and protect them in my arms.

Today I stopped by briefly to drop off the photos I took of BabyH in the hospital. The twins (7) were bouncing around and taking turns holding BabyH, BIL and SIL were relaxing after dinner. I was invited in for a burger. I still feel a little weird about imposing in any way, I don’t want to intrude. But when I hesitate they encourage me to stay, tell me it’s no problem at all, that we’re welcome at any time.

SIL said she almost called me last week, to invite me over one evening when BIL was out… but she didn’t want to press. It’s hard for all of us, I think, negotiating these waters. They are very aware of what we are going through – it’s hard to forget. Before she had the baby SIL and I built a foundation of these new rules, and I think that’s helping. They don’t want to upset us, but they don’t want to leave us out, either. I am thankful that they have invited us in, that they are welcoming; I would have understood if they just wanted to be alone right now, but it would have been harder on me, I think.

I look at my BIL and SIL and think, you make it look too easy. It seems like the most natural thing to them, to bring a baby home and take care of it. To be parents. Easy is not a word I could ever attach to it, not after infertility, not after loss. It’s not that they take it for granted, no – they are well aware, and very very loving parents. But how can it be so easy for them and so hard for us? Why, of all the things in the world, of all the things in our life, is this the one thing that we have to fight every inch of the way? Why couldn’t we be sitting at our dining table, eating dinner with a baby nestled in my arms?

It’s supposed to be easy. Having a baby is not supposed to be this hard, this painful. And I know I have learned a lot, I know in some ways I have become a better person, and I know above and beyond that when our time does come it will be the sweetest moment we could ever ask for and we will appreciate it far far beyond what we could have before. But sometimes I would give anything to have this weight erased, to have it all come easily.

::

Den is having a harder time with it all than I am, has even before BabyH was born. He doesn’t have the support and outlets that I do to work through things – granted he’s always worked through things differently than me. But I see something in his face when we’re visiting BabyH, or even when I’m just editting photos of her or talking about her. There’s a tightness, a coldness. It’s not obvious, it’s just… like he takes a mental and emotional step backward. When he held her in the hospital he was making jokes and chatting; to all outward appearances he seemed fine. But he tone was off. His heart wasn’t there. The jokes were a screen, and I think only I knew it.

His concern is not for himself, however. He says things like he doesn’t want them (BIL/SIL) to think we’re ignoring them. He doesn’t want to cut them off, he doesn’t want to avoid them, but at the same time I think deep inside he does want to avoid them. He doesn’t want think about it, he doesn’t want to hold BabyH, he doesn’t want to be reminded. And on one hand I’m proud of him for not hiding away completely, I know how easy it would be for him to slam that door shut. But on the other hand it just kills me to watch him balance his way through this and be “fine” and know that he’s not.

I am angry that this had to happen to him, of all people. Everyone who knows him knows what a great father he would be. He has wanted children for many, many years. It’s what he lives for. I was the one who had to be “talked into” the idea of having kids – I was the one who wasn’t ready yet when we got married. I was the one who grew up not really sure if I ever wanted kids. Den was the one who felt it whole-heartedly. He’s the one who has been waiting all his life. For me this has been a 2 year journey; for him it has been well over 12 years.

I watch him play with our neices and I just get so fucking angry that we have had to go through all this bullshit and still have no child to raise. If I know one thing about my husband, it’s that he would give his whole life for a child. He will be a wonderful father.

Through all of this it has never been my biological clock that has been ticking. It’s been his. I feel it constantly reverberating in my head.