I want out of "the club".

It's not that I don't like you all. In fact, you're probably the best friends I've had, especially in these past months. Despite the fact that I could sit next to you in a restaurant, or walk past you on the street and never even know it was you. (Unless at some point we all do the group tattoo thing I suggested over at charmed girls place:)) Or you were brave enough to post your picture on your blog, but still, that would mean I would have to use my powers of recall and observation, and lets just say, it's a pretty safe bet, you'd get past me.
It's just that on some days, okay, all days or at least most days, it's just so unbelievably, overwhelmingly, life alteringly (I know probably not a "real" word...eff you Webster) SAD, being in this club.
It's not that I don't love reading your blogs, (is it sicko to love reading over and over about how another mom, just like me or maybe completely different than me, has a dead baby too)Maybe love is the wrong word????
It's just that it's torture to know so many are walking through this life with this horrible, terrible, dead baby ache and all I can do is watch and occasionally post a random pithy comment or maybe a xxoo (((hug)) and then just sit back and watch again. And feel helpless.
We all have such different voices. Some of you write with side splitting humor, some with mind bending and thought provoking information, some with a door open to your soul, some with downright cheerfulness(sometimes). So I've grown accustomed to waking up and going to this really great cyber cocktail party, where when I first got there, I didn't know anyone and was a bit nervous about being there but after the first moments, I found out everyone at this uber cool cocktail party seemed to know me better than I knew myself and it was great. The best party ever, except for that one thing. That dead baby thing.
And it's that thing, everyday. Especially on the "cheerful" blogs. Maybe those are the hardest to read. The ones I go to, to find a happy place, after I've visited with everyone and instead one day I find them in a not so happy place, and then it hits me, as though I needed reminding, I am not at a cocktail party, I'm at a dead baby club meeting.
It kinda reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode where in the beginning, you see a lovely woman and she's shopping at a department store and she's trying to return an item she purchased and the store manager sends her to the "Top Floor" to customer service. When she gets there every one's really nice, except that they are all mannequins, and so is she. She was just out on "mannequin furlough" and caught a glimpse of life on the other side and now she has to go back and be stuck being a mannequin again. She can't get out of it. I feel like that mannequin. I know there is that whole other world out there, that normal world, but I am not allowed to go back.
So I've decided, I want out of this club. I desperately want out and I want to take all of you with me.
Except, I didn't get to choose to join and apparently, as fate would have it, I don't get to choose to leave either.
That sucks.
That so sucks.
This just so f*ing sucks.
I WANT OUT OF THE CLUB!!!!!!!!


*This post in no way, implies, infers or pretends to represent, that any of you are mannequins:)