The next step

I've had several ... breakdowns lately. For the most part, I'm dealing but every so often, I just kind of lose it.

S and I have talked and we've come to a decision: If this cycle doesn't leave me with a BFP, I'm calling the doctor and scheduling an appointment for the "next step" in all of this.

Sigh.

I'm just too old and too tired to continue on with this month to month bullshit of trying to get pregnant when everyone else around me gets pregnant and pops out babies at the drop of a hat.

I hate who I've become since the miscarriage. I really and truly hate it. I'm too bitter, too sad, too angry. And it's not fair to anyone, especially myself. I deserve more than this. My husband deserves more than this. My family and friends do, too.

About last night

I think I had a bit of a nervous breakdown last night after I learned my Oma had been in a car accident... I was so caught off guard (possibly because I learned the day after it happened and via email), that I just couldn't get it out of my thoughts and I almost immediately started to cry.

And once I started to cry, I couldn't stop.

I cried and cried and cried. I cried so much I couldn't breathe.

I was going to call S but I knew he was in the car and didn't want him to be concerned because I wouldn't have been able to speak through the tears anyway. When he came home, he called me to move the car and upon saying "Hello?" immediately asked me what was wrong.

I whaled and he hung up the cell phone and immediately came up the stairs and asked me what was wrong, opened his arms and I just latched on and cried.

I just couldn't stop crying as I couldn't get the thought of losing Oma out of my head. Not last night, not today, not tomorrow.

I can't lose her. I know it's incredibly selfish, but I just cannot lose her.

Today is another day. And while I'm still quite upset about this, I realize that my ... breakdown ... was not only a result of being scared about my Oma, and realizing that she is not immortal, but it was a sign that I needed to release my feelings once and for all (yet again)...

Oh dear god will this ever get any fucking easier?!?!?!

Thursday

The past couple of days, today included, have been a bit overwhelming for me. Like a test of sorts.

Or something.

You know how when you're ready and willing to buy a new car and instantly there seems to be a million cars on the road similar to the one you want to buy? And all of a sudden, commercial after commercial appears on the tellie and radio regarding that car? That's how it is when you decide you want to have a baby, too. All of a sudden, there are babies and pregnant mommas everywhere.

Every.Where.

I can honestly say the past year and a half have been like that - babies and baby bumps (and mountains) everywhere. Some days seem to be worse than others, but the past several days have been exceptionally bad.

The other night I met up with some gal pals for dinner. Not only were two (of the 8 total) pregnant, but another was a mom already. And of course, conversation came up more than once regarding pregnancy, regarding being a mom. It's a part of life after all. We sat and ate and chatted and chatted and chatted for several hours and in that time, I lost track of the number of moms and kids that came to eat. And several momma's to be, too.

I don't really know what my point is. It's just ... hard sometimes. And I hate that it's hard sometimes. It shouldn't be so hard to smile when someone talks lovingly about their gifts. It shouldn't be so hard to be happy to hear news that someone else is pregnant, that someone else just became a mom. But it is sometimes.

Yesterday I had a brief meeting with my supervisor regarding goals for the year. Before we started he asked how I was doing and if I was sleeping any better since I've had to call in late or all together on more than one occasion in the past couple months due to insomnia. I told him I was sleeping much better these days and that it seems to go in spurts. And while I talked, I watched the slide show on his computer of his life: him, his wife, his 2 boys, his 1 girl, their dog.

Then he said, "Yeah, once we had kids, I learned how to adapt to little sleep."

Good for you, I wanted to say. Instead, I said, "At least you have an excuse for not sleeping though."

I wanted to cry but held it together just fine.

Ack.

Anyway.

I'm so fortunate that we're moving. I'm so fortunate that we've spent the past month spending all of our free time looking at apartments. I'm so fortunate to have been able to focus on something other than the thing I normally focus on... but now that the place has been chosen and all that's left is to move, I'm left thinking about too many other things again.

And that just sucks big hairy pimply hairy balls sometimes.

March 2009

This should've been the month welcoming our first born into the world. But it won't be happening. Instead, we'll be busy searching for a new place to hang our hat, packing, and moving. Thank GOD we'll at least be busy... if I had jack shit to do this month but think about what should be happening, I'm sure it would be just enough to put me over the edge once and for all.

I can't lie. I'm pretty sad about things again. I'm just so tired of who I've become most days. It saddens me greatly. I was finally in a place in my life where I was living life and loving it. My 30s have been the best years of my life, after all. But then I got pregnant and lost the baby and had to have her surgically removed and my life completely changed.

Now I'm just so bitter. And angry. And sad.

Meanwhile, life around me continues moving forward.

And I'm left wanting to move forward so badly - and just when I think I'm back to being Me and moving forward, I revert back to that bitter woman who can only focus on what she doesn't have.

And that just sucks. And I'm not sure how to change it.

Blech.

I've been doing well lately. Then I got AF this morning. Whatevs, right? I was pretty proud with the fact that I was dealing with it OK... compared to the breakdowns I was having the past couple months, at least.

I had a doc appt at 11:40 for my blood pressure (need new scrit). I get there right on time and wait and wait.

A little girl was there waiting with me. She was about 1.5 and all she could say was Da-Da but super loud. It was cute. She was cute. I smiled. Inside I welled up a bit though. I'm so gd selfish sometimes.

Then another couple comes in with a kid, about 6. I smiled at her, too but cried inside.

WTF? This isn't a gynie's office, what's with the kids? Oh yeah it's Dec 23 and no school. I'm such an idiot.

But it gets better.

I finally get called to see the doc. Yay, it's the one I like, the one who helped me with my shingles. While I'm waiting I look at his bulletin board with a homemade coloring that said Dr. CoolDoctor is the best. There were a bunch of photos of kids and the doc holding various newborns. I'm thinking he might be a gynie or a pediatrician. I didn't ask. I can't ask. Not just yet eh.

He comes in and we're talking and he's looking at my computerized chart and asks a question I haven't been asked in ages and didn't think I would be asked for a while: How many weeks are you?

I'm not mad, just sad. He didn't know he was basically punching me in the stomach with his question... although I swear I told them months ago to take it out of their system that I was pregnant.

I'm not, I replied. I had a missed abortion.

Oh my god, he replied, quickly. And that made me feel even worse. I'm so sorry. And I know he meant it. He's really a nice doctor.

If I was, I'd be like 28 weeks or something. Wow, huh. I think about it - specifically how far along I'd be - every so often. Everyone would know I was pg by now. Everyone. I'd be fat, but pg at least. Ha.

I'd spend Christmas Eve and Day with people doting on me, asking me how I'm feeling, how things are coming along. People would ask about the sex of the baby, names, nursery, etc. OMG it would consume my every waking moment.

But it doesn't cuz I'm not pg. I'm still not going to be a mom.


Holy fuck it's times like this when I wish I didn't insist on writing about everything and getting everything out of me. I know, in the long run, it's quite cathartic, but fuck me does it hurt right now... and it doesn't help that AF decided to visit today.

I'm OK. Just needed to get that out.

Raw, raw, raw and so, so ugly.

You've been warned (up there in the title - it's about this post and what you might read).

I got my period about four hours ago and I'm not handling it well at all. I didn't cry as soon as I saw the pink on the tissue like I did the first periods after the d&c, but I cried all the way home. Actually, I didn't really physically cry during the drive home because I had to see where I was going, but I cried in my head and my heart and soul. And now I'm sobbing like a bitch and the tears won't stop falling and I can't breathe out of my fucking nose.

I just don't know how much more I can do this.

I really don't understand how others do this and for much longer periods of time. I mean, I *know* there are couples out there that have been trying for years and years to have kids. Some get pregnant and lose their babies. Some never get pregnant. How do they keep at it? How? This is not a rhetorical question! If you've happened to stumble on this, I'm sorry for the negativity, but please tell me *how* you keep doing this. Please!

It's not even fun anymore. I get excited to see egg whites, I tell S about it and he could care less. I'm tired of this. I know he doesn't want this as much as me, but I also know he wants it a little, at least, and I know he loves me and would do anything for me... so why the fuck won't he fuck me more during ovulation?!?

Did I mention this would be a raw and ugly post? Well, yeah, I did. Up there in the motherfucking title is where I mentioned it so if you're disturbed just move on because this is where I come to get it out of my head, get it out of my heart.

I'm fucking sick and motherfucking tired of this. It's just not fun. It actually never was. No, I take that back. It was a little fun and exciting at first, I will admit. But honest to god, after about the first month or so, it wasn't fun anymore.

Yeah, I like me some sex, but this waiting each and every fucking month is for the fucking birds. I can't take it anymore. I can't fucking take it.

And I feel like I'm in a fucking movie... precisely that fucking Baby Mama movie with Tina Fey. I'm the Tina Fey character. Or no, better yet, I feel like I'm in the movie Juno. I'm the Jennifer Garner character. Only there's no Juno character for me to get a baby from.

I don't know. I'm just really tired. And the timing just really sucks. I mean it's Thanksgiving tomorrow and I've been really trying to find something... anything... to be grateful for and just when I think I can do this, I can turn my spirits around and start to be more positive, I turn into a raging bitch because my boobs hurt and I've got cramps that feel like burning and scraping at the same time. And then it comes... my period. And out the window goes any hope for getting pregnant this month.

And once again, I'm left crying and feeling like shit... not because I'm not pregnant, but because I'm still not a mom. And I'm still not going to be a mom. And once again, I'm left wondering why the fuck my husband won't talk to me about adopting.

I just want to be a parent. A parent to a child who calls me Mom or Momma or Mommy and not just Auntie.

Oh god.

This is so, so hard. The holidays are here. It's all about families and good times. That's what it's all about: Life and the holidays - families and good times. I just want to be in the midst of that instead of continuously feeling like I'm on the fucking sidelines cheering everyone else on...

Anyway.

Tomorrow is a new day. A day to give Thanks. And I really really really do have so much to be thankful for; I really do.

Goodnight.

The Focus Post

I like when I'm not PMSing.
I like when I'm not bleeding.
I feel so much more in control and so much less angry and... pathetic.
It's nice.

One of S's close friends is a new daddy of a little boy: Micah Caden. I love the name Micah. A lot. I went out yesterday and got a couple little things for Micah so that S can give it to his friend when he sees him next. I'd like to see Micah for myself, but it's probably best I don't just yet. Honestly, I think I'd totally cry if I had the chance to hold a newborn. In fact, thinking of holding him was the only time I got a little teary this time... but I don't think it was due to jealousy or anger; it was a good teary. I think.

Like I said, I like when I'm not PMSing or when I'm not bleeding. I like who I am during these few weeks a month.

I also feel more ... hopeful ... during these days. Like I can see myself getting k/u soon and having a healthy pregnancy and healthy baby.

I need to focus on these feelings when I am PMSing or bleeding; therefore, this will become the Focus Post and hopefully next time - if there is a next time - I get all down and plain ugly, I can come back here and realize that it's just the hormones talking and that I really am not an ugly, selfish, jealous, pathetic person.

Totally losing it - my mind, that is.

I might have to tell one of my oldest friends that I miscarried.

FUCK!

See this friend I talk of... we go way back. She befriended me in 8th grade in 1986. "B" was the only one to become my friend that year (it was a new school for me as my mother shockingly moved me yet again). She would call me her best friend after a couple months, but I never trusted anyone enough to call them my best friend. Pathetic, yes but I digress.

We remained close friends for almost 20 years - even through all of my moves and new schools. Then about 6 years ago, we lost touch. Just like that. Poof, no more contact. I tried emailing and calling a couple times but after absolutely no acknowledgement, I moved on.

Last year I found her sister on Myspace and through her, B and I eventually reconnected and I soon learned that she was moving to Europe with her boyfriend and shortly after she moved, I learned that she actually was married to her boyfriend. About a month after the move, we started emailing more regularily and a couple months after that, I learned that B was having a baby - due this October.

The news shocked me a little... not just because of my need to become a Mom, but more so than that, it was the story behind her pregnancy that shocked me the most: her husband never wanted to have children but wasn't always careful so oops she became pregnant.

She said some other things that really stung - basically making it seem like having babies and/or getting married is all a competition. For some, yes, that may be the case, but please do not lump me into that sum of ignorant people.

I moved on - as I often have done in the past.

B had her baby girl several weeks ago. They're both healthy and doing well. B and her husband and the baby will be moving back next month. And while a part of me is happy because we'll be able to spend time together in person again, a part of me is dreading this... especially after her latest comment of "You need to have a baby so we can have play dates."

Um... yeah.

On top of all that, one of our mutual friends, who was originally B's friend, is 12 weeks pregnant. So I can just imagine getting together with them - one with child and one with an out of womb baby, and me.

Sounds fun and delightful for a SANE person but as I discussed in my last post, I think I'm going insane or am already there.

UGH.

I don't know what my fucking point with all this is really.

Saturday

I was laying in bed earlier thinking how I was going to come in here and post about how crazy and different my mind works during different times of the month... how if I'm bleeding or about to bleed, I'm very emotional and a bit irrational and how when I'm just done bleeding I'm pretty fucking happy and content.

But instead of coming in here and writing that, I checked my email and found one sitting there from a friend of a friend whom I haven't heard from since I got my BFP. I didn't tell her I got my BFP so I didn't ever have to tell her about the D and C. So she didn't know anything... but her email to me told me something: she's pregnant. 12 weeks today.

And the news of her pregnancy and her exhaustion and her nausea stung me.

Goddamnit why can't I just be happy for people?!?!

And then instead of coming here and posting, I go to a message board I frequent and see a pic of a newborn baby that one of the girls just had and all these wonderful posts to her about being a mom and .... once again .... I just lost it and instead of out and out crying like the little whiny bitch that I am these days, I finally came here to write.

But then my husband heard me typing away and asked if there was something I wanted to talk about and I said NO. Because I really don't. I HATE feeling like this. I HATE feeling ... jealousy or whatever the fuck it is because someone else is having a good pregnancy or because someone else just became a mom.

Instead of taking believing me when I said NO, he came in here and saw that I was crying and hugged me and wouldn't let go. So I let it alllllllllll out to him. His shoulder caught all my tears and snot as I just let it all out. Every bit of it. And I cried and cried while he just continued to hug me.

I feel a little better now.

But is this what it's going to be like until I become a mom? Because if it is, I think I might totally lose my fucking mind first.

Unexpected

It's funny how you can spend time thinking how you might react to something if it were to happen and then when it happens, you react in a completely different way - or in a way that surprises you.

When I POAS last Friday and clearly got only one line, I wasn't really upset or anything. I wasn't really... anything...if that makes sense. I just accepted it and moved on and had no real thoughts about it. It is what it is, after all.

Moments ago, however, I just went to the bathroom and when I wiped, I saw pink on the tissue. Apparently the gates are opening and AF is deciding to visit now - three days before my birthday. Why not, right?

Anyway, when I saw the pink and then looked at my panties and saw a blurry smudgy spot of red/brown, my heart practically sank and tears immediately formed in my eyes.

And as I type this, I'm finding it almost hard to breathe as the tears fall out of my eyes.

One after the other.

I wasn't expecting this reaction whatsoever.

I can't stop crying.

It's like it's really real now. Yesterday I was reminded of the D and C when I got the bill for it. Today I get my period.

It really did happen.

I was pregnant one day... not so long ago.

I was really going to become a mom finally.

For four weeks, it became more and more real that life was growing inside me and I was finally going to become the mom I've wanted to become for so, so long.

And then one day, the doctor told me there was no more hope for growth. The doctor told me he was 100% sure it was over.

Just like that.

After 7 months of trying to get pregnant... it was all over.

And the next day I had the surgery.

And now, 34 days later, I'm finally menstruating.

And the tears flood my eyes again.

:(

I just truly was not expecting this sort of reaction.

Desperately seeking: Peace

Four weeks ago, my boobies hurt and felt like they were growing bigger and bigger every second... my tummy was queasy... I still felt like a mom-to-be... BUT BUT BUT we were on our way to the hospital.

UGH.

I don't really want to revisit those memories. Feel free to read all about it in my other blog.

Anyway, it's been four weeks exactly since it officially ended.

I still don't have my period.

And I will *not* POAS. I don't even want to.

I'm extremely irritable and bitchy. So I'm sure AF will show up any moment. I can't wait. My H can't wait. When the whore shows up, it means some peace in our home... in my head.

No motivation

I'm not sure what's going on exactly, but I can't find much motivation to do... well... anything lately. :( It's getting quite sad.

I'm so fat, but I can't find the strength to do something about. I eat like shit because I just don't give a shit. I can't exercise because I'm too fat. It's a horrible, vicious cycle that people don't really comprehend unless they've been at this weight. Hell, I used to think "move!" and you'll lose some weight but when you're as heavy as I've gotten, just "moving" can be difficult.

I don't know if I care to try to get pregnant again. Of course, I will still have sex because I love sex. But, right now, I just don't give a shit if I get pregnant. Frankly, I'd much rather look into adoption at this point... all I want is to mother a child. I don't give a shit if it's biologically my own. I just want to mother.

This probably all means that I'm still not over the loss. Who knows. It's been almost four weeks and I've accepted it and I can even talk about it without breaking down... so I *think* I'm over it.

Maybe this is all PMS. I do get like this - moody, depressed, unmotivated - when I have PMS. But I have no idea if I'm PMSing because I don't have any other "normal" symptoms I used to get - the cramps, the bloating, the sore boobs... basically the same "symptoms" I had when I got knocked up.

I need something to look forward to... something positive and good that I can focus my energy on. But I don't really have anything. Sure my birthday is a week and a half away but at my age and with my history of having "nothing special" birthdays, it's nothing to look forward to. Believe me. Besides, I'm talking something long term to look forward to... something like a vacation or something.

Blah.

I wish I could start writing again... focus my energy on creating a character and a life for that character. But I have NO motivation.

God, I really hope this is all just PMS.

Please let this be PMS.

If it's PMS, it'll pass.

And I want these feelings to pass.

Desperately.

About yesterday

Apparently it's time to color my hair. I had three different people comment on the gray yesterday - not on how much hair I chopped off, but on the gray and how there was a lot of it. Gee, thanks for the breaking news, Einstein. Would it be OK of me to comment on all your wrinkles and that maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time in the sun or smoked a little less cigarettes cuz you look about 10 years older than you actually are? Oh that's right, I have common courtesy so I'll just *think* those thoughts while you actually verbalize yours. Thanks for playing.

Yesterday was the first of two 1-year-old birthday parties I had to attend. It was fun (aside from the gray hair comments) and the only time I got teary eyed was when they sat the birthday boy in his high chair, gave him his little cake, and all the guests (about 30 total) started singing happy birthday to him. He looked around at everyone looking at and singing to him and started to cry. The poor little guy! I seriously couldn't help but get welled up because both his mom's (he's the product of IVF to a lesbian couple) tried to get his attention on to them so he would stop crying, which he did.

He's a happy baby. Very content. Ready to walk any minute. And he's absolutely adored by his mom's and all their friends.

I held him only once (did I mention he's the product of a lesbian couple? yeah so that means he's got grandparents that didn't think they were going to get a grandchild, and a gazillion "aunts" that want to do nothing but shower him with their love) and played with him for only a couple minutes. It was when I was about to play Bocce Ball with my dad, husband, and one of the granddads.

Z (the baby) spotted the balls we were holding and tried to come toward us so I gently tossed one of the Bocce balls onto the grass for the little guy to come toward. He did so I knew he wanted to play with the ball, but also had the sense to realize that he wouldn't really be able to lift the Bocce ball so I found a rubber ball and started playing catch with him. He was so happy when he threw the ball toward me that he squealed and waved his little arms about.

Gah, I cannot wait! It's not about being pregnant for me, though that's obviously step 1; I just want a child to nurture, to care for, to adore, to love, to guide, to protect, to help grow, to help thrive, to help and watch learn...

There were a couple times when a couple family members I haven't seen for a while asked how we've been doing. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a baby, but I have a feeling that they think we don't want kids or something... after all, we were together for 7 years before we got married last year and I'm getting up there in age. But, then again, maybe they realize that those kind of questions can very well be hurtful... look how long they had to wait for a baby to get into their family since one of the mother's (the one that didn't birth Z) is a lesbian.

I don't know, but I was SO grateful that nobody asked us when we were going to have a baby. SO grateful. And can I just add that it was not at all easy to answer the question, "So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"Not too much," was my answer that left my lips when my head said, Oh just finally finding out that I'm pregnant, being elated about the pregnancy, falling madly in love with the growing baby for four weeks, only to find out there was no heart beat and making the hardest decision in my life to undergo surgery to suck the pregnancy out of my uterus in hopes of being able to move on and forward.

"Just work and stuff," I said.

Meh, it's all to be expected I guess... and I'm just grateful I didn't have any crying spells or anything and that I was able to enjoy yesterday for what it was - Z's first birthday. It's not *always* about me, after all.

That was yesterday and today's a different day:

This morning after I came back to bed for the umpteenth time after peeing, yet again, I told DH that a part of me thought I might be pregnant again because of all the peeing and because of the *extremely vivid* dreams I've been having every single night for the past two weeks - just like when I was pregnant last time.

"I'm trying not to get worked up about it though, in case I'm not and because I really don't think I am," I added. "Plus, if I really am, I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time."

Saying it out loud to someone else really made me sad for a moment - I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time. It shouldn't be like that. Every pregnancy is different and my chances of having a healthy pregnancy following a miscarriage are great... but it's how I feel. Today at least.

"You probably haven't even ovulated yet," he answered.

"Yeah," I said, trying to drift off into another dream.

shoot me now

I've been doing pretty good this week and I think I can attribute that to my drastic hair cut last Friday.

Today, however, I'm beginning to feel a little down again. I'm sure it doesn't help that I've been bouncing around the fucking internet all day long. Add that to the fact that I've got period-like cramping going on and NO sore boobies and I'm beginning to think the fucking whore Aunt Flo may be coming after all.

:(

Why I can't just miraculously be pregnant again, I don't know, but I don't think it's in my cards. No... that would be too easy. And nothing in my life has ever come easy so why the fuck would it start now?!?

See that? That's anger. I still have a lot of it and I've noticed that it really hasn't dissipated like I thought... or like I hoped. It shows up the most when I'm driving, which has become *much more* aggressive lately.

:(

Fuck, maybe I just need to see a fucking shrink again.

Oh but instead I get to go to a one-year-old's birthday party tomorrow where I'm sure there will be lots of happy mommy and daddy's and other kids around.

Shoot me now.

Holy Hell

I just re-read what I wrote last night. I'm a fucking loser sometimes.

Oh well.

I can't always be Super-aunt/wife/daughter/sister/friend. Sometimes, I have to let go of those reigns and let someone else put on the cape.

The sad thing is that usually I feel let down when that happens.

And then I feel like a bigger loser.

Letting it all out there

So here goes: I'm putting it all out there in the next 50 minutes I have before S comes home. I've been holding back for some time now because I know there are some dear, dear people who read this blog who I don't want to offend or upset in any way... but the fact of the matter is that this is my blog and it was created to help me heal.

And I still need to heal.

I'm very sad. It only seems to get worse than better. I swear to god that I was OK two weeks ago. I was OK with what happened... with what had to happen. But every day seems to get worse and worse and worse and I'm not sure how to handle it.

It's not like I can't get up in the morning and go to work. It's not like I can't laugh at things and be goofy... it's just there are moments. A lot of moments throughout the day when I feel... empty.

There it is - that fucking word I hate so much. That word I've fought so hard to never enter my vocabulary again. Empty.

I hate what that word means when it's used to describe the way someone feels. To me, there's nothing worse than feeling empty.

It's almost as bad as not feeling like there's any hope left.

But there is always hope.

Thankfully.

But yeah, the emptiness. I haven't felt the emptiness in a long, long time - at least 10 years or so and I've really worked hard to not go down that road again.

But lately, I've had moments of emptiness and it's been scary.

And the anger. By god the anger is gaining control of me... talk about scary! I try so hard each and every day to smile and to laugh - to find anything to smile and laugh at or about. I try and I usually succeed.

But then there are those fucking moments when the anger and/or the emptiness gets a hold of me and doesn't want to let go.

I almost feel like I'm suffocating at times...


Just before hopping on here to blog, I was talking to S on the phone - he's on his way home from work and I was calling to let him know I was home. I was looking for batteries for the cordless keyboard and asked if he knew where they were. He didn't. I told him that I *needed* to blog - and blogging is something we rarely discuss.

He said, "I wish you would talk to your husband instead of the computer."

And I did. I broke down. I started crying and I told him how I guess I wasn't over the miscarriage, that I wanted to be pregnant and excited and nervous; I told him that I was sad, incredibly sad and that I was angry; I told him that I needed the batteries so that I could blog, that I didn't want to talk to him about it because - in all honesty - I'm not sure what the fuck is wrong with me; I told him that I *guess* it's all because of the loss.

But I have no clue.

I just know that I can't stand to read about pregnancies... a lot of the pregnancies I'm reading about are my own friends' pregnancies. And I'm so incredibly happy for them... but I can't stand to fucking read about it anymore. I can't stand it. The baby names, the clothes not fitting, the baby showers, the backaches, the ultrasounds, the heartbeats. I can't do it anymore. I can't be excited for them anymore.

And I can't stand myself for not being able to be excited for them.

And then there's the pregnant ladies. I swear to fuck they are everywhere. And the kids. Babies and kids and baby bumps EVERYFUCKINGWHERE I turn.

I can't stand it anymore because I so pathetically and desperately want it to be my turn.

I so appreciate everyone telling me stories about people they know - or they themselves - who've gone through a miscarriage (or more) and have also had healthy pregnancies. I really and wholeheartedly appreciate this more than words can say because I know they don't want me to give up and they want me to know that there is still hope.

And I agree.

But I also know that time is not on my side.

While I'm not ancient, I'm not 25 anymore. I don't have time to have another two miscarriages before the doctors start looking more into what happened. I don't have time!! Yes, I probably will get pregnant and it will probably be healthy... BUT WHAT IF I DON'T OR WHAT IF THIS HAPPENS AGAIN?! Can you tell me that? What the fuck happens if I don't get knocked up for another year or two. I'm turning 36 in three weeks. I don't have any other children. This is it, people!! Don't you fucking understand that this is my ONLY opportunity?!?

Even the fucking doctor acts like it's not a big deal... and I get it. I do. Because, again, chances are pretty darn great that I *will* get pregnant again and it *will* be a healthy pregnancy and I *will* become a mom... but there is NO guarantee of that.

And by god, I'm sick of being positive about everything. I'm fucking SICK OF IT!


My head hurts. It fucking hurts because I'm crying like a little bitch and I can't fucking stand it.

And listen to my language ... or read it. How can a someone who wants to mother so fucking bad, write like this?

I'm pathetic.

And I'm tired.

And I need to take a shit.

God, maybe S was right... maybe I am just PMSing.

But I don't really cry like this when I'm PMSing.

That's why I think I'm not over it. Or something.

Gah, I need to end this for now... S just called so I have to go move the car anyway.