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.

Ugliness

I should not be feeling like this.

I should not be feeling like this. I should not be feeling like this. I should not be feeling like this!

I just found out that someone I know is in labor. She’s having a baby. She’s having her and her husband’s baby. She’s becoming a mom. And while I’m truly happy and excited for her, I’m also crying. Literally crying! And they are not tears of joy or excitement.

I’m so ugly right now.

I have horrific cramps, I feel like I’m going to bleed everywhere, I feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’m in tears because someone else is becoming a mom.

I’m so ugly!

I took some more pain killers when I found out. Pain killers left over from the D and C.

I was trying not to take the pain killers because I really don’t want to get addicted… but then I found out someone else was becoming a mom so I took them.

Piss poor reason, really.

They didn’t make me feel better. In fact, I think I feel more depressed than ever.

I hate feeling like this… and I don’t know what ‘this’ is per say. Is it jealousy, anger, sadness? All of it? None of it?

I keep thinking about my age, too and that doesn’t help matters. I’m closer to 40 than I am to 30. I don’t want to be an old mom. My dad is 75 and it hasn’t been easy dealing with him and he was 39 when I was born. I don’t want to be a burden to my child in 30 years. Motherfucker this wasn’t supposed to go down like this. None of it was supposed to happen this way.

My whole fucking life hasn’t gone the way it was supposed to.

I love my life, don’t get me wrong. I love life, period. But I’m just so incredibly motherfucking tired of watching things happen for others that should be happening to me. I deserve the things I want. I paid my dues.

When is it my turn?

I’m so fucking ugly right now and I fucking hate it.

I need to get a grip. I need to get over the fact that I’m not a mom yet and just BELIEVE that I will become one soon. I really need to believe again. I need to let go of the negativity and focus on the positivity:

• I’m alive.
• I’m relatively healthy.
• I have a wonderful husband who loves me so, so much.
• It’s a beautiful time of year.
• I’m an aunt to some amazing kids, most of whom are functioning grown adults.
• I’m a great aunt to a beautiful almost 2-year-old angel.
• I have a job.
• I have a roof over my head and a working car.
• I have food on the table.
• I have lots of love inside to give.
• I love myself.
• I like myself.
• Life is so good. It’s so, so good.
• And I know my time to be a mom will come. It will. It must. I have to believe. I have to.

(I just wish I wasn’t so ugly right now)

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.

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.

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.