Wednesday 30 October 2013

Glutton for Punishment

I do it to myself. I can't seem to help myself. This seems to be the spiral that my brain does:

"Hey Karen, you seem to be in a really shitty mood. You haven`t eaten all day, you need more sleep, and your list of things to do is a mile a long. You know what would be fun? If you went onto Facebook...

Look up that friend you hid from your timeline....

You know, the one who knows all about your miscarriage, has assured you that you're fertile, and who wasn't trying to get pregnant but now is and said "now you gotta getter done so our babies can be besties?"

Yeah, her. Look at her timeline and her most recent status update...

Oh, she's feeling really tired and wants to puke? What do the comments say?

Aww, everyone is guessing (correctly) that she's knocked up! Well, I guess you should feel really bad now...

And blog about it. Can't Facebook rant, because she's on there. Can't instagram, because she's on there, and you can't even write a cryptic tweet because she's on there, too! You really don't need to complain about it again on the TTCAL boards, because you've done that lots, and your husband doesn't want to hear you complain now when you walked right into it, and your mom doesn't get it. So, blog."

I have decided that I don't care if she's pregnant or how far along; if she complains to me about it, she will get a piece of my mind. I would love to be tired and nauseous and achy and crampy and hungry and excited and nervous and everything else that goes with being pregnant. I would love to have a little baby growing in me again. To have that chance to be a parent. I would love to, and after having all of it taken away, I don't think I could bring myself to complain about one single symptom. How could I? How could I complain about the side effects of the best thing in my life?

I'm at a loss as to what to do with all of these feelings. "Cry it out" seems to be the best solution. How many tears will it take until I stop doing this .... I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Between the miscarriage and growing hatred of my job, even my MK mentor said I was wilting.

TANGENT: I love my MK mentor. She is such a loving, Godly woman, and I am blessed to have her in my life. She helps find the silver lining. She was over the other day to help me shine up that silver lining, and we had a really good talk. She's a doodler, and at one point she had written "Joy" on the paper (and then surrounded it with hearts) and said she wants me to have that back. She can see that I've lost that. And every time I do MK I put on the happiest face I can muster. And she can still see that I'm wilting. I know I am.

I am wilting. I had big plans for this time of year: I would be working hard to get all my work cleaned up, because I was going to go on mat leave before Christmas. December 15th or something like that - I would've been 7 months along. Fuck work! I needed to de-stress and find out all I could about making my own baby food, and find something cute to wear for Christmas dinners. Now at Christmas, I'll be lucky to be just barely further along than I was the first time.

I keep circling back to this. All of this "I was supposed to be" and "We were going to" and "If only".

But for now, I'm going to be strong and I will persevere because I am hopeful. Because maybe it's easier to be hopeful and happy than tired and sorrowful. Only one way to find out.

Monday 28 October 2013

So Many Feelings

This is most of an email I sent to my mentor & friend, as explanation why I would be absent from a meeting this evening. The friend in question will be at the meeting, and I can't be happy to her face yet. I can't be happy yet. Also, loss is hard.

Friend texted me on Saturday night to say she's pregnant (actual wording: expecting their first child). It was pretty much a huge punch to the gut for me, and it opened up very sore wounds that I thought I had a handle on (after all, I was expecting my first child too, but God wanted my first child early). After a lot of tears and even more praying, I texted her back a simple "Congrats!" hoping that she wouldn't reply. She did. With: "Thanks :) now u gotta getter done so our babies can be besties lol". Now, usually, this would be funny and I'd be able to laugh as well, but not anymore. Not since July. And I've expressed to her previously that it's been hard for me, but I don't think she gets it. A lot of people don't get it. This is the third pregnancy announcement since my loss. One was on facebook (easily blocked, although I would have been due in March the same as she is), one was at work (and it took me a while to tell her congrats, at which point she was so super caring and understood why it took me a while because she's had two losses, so I'm able to be super happy for her), and now this one. This one hurts the most because she said they weren't even really trying. They haven't even gone on their honeymoon yet.
 
And here I am, taking my temperature every morning trying to pinpoint ovulation so that we have a good chance. Here I am, trying really hard not to feel like I'm rushing/replacing. I just can't be happy for her to her face yet. I know I should be, and somewhere deep down I am really happy for her, but my heart aches so much because, yet again, here I am thinking "it should be me; why isn't it me?" And now, I'm hurt all over again, and I fear that she'll tell me that I "need to relax", "just let it happen", "don't worry", "you'll be next", and I can't hear that. Those words are not reassuring. (She told me a while ago that "clearly" I was fertile because I've been pregnant. I didn't know how to respond. I was going to say "It doesn't count if it's not a take-home baby" but I couldn't bring myself to say it. It "doesn't count"? It counts a lot. But I feel like other people think that because it was so early it really doesn't count. It counts to me. It counts to me every day. It hurts that people think it should be easily replaceable. That I should just "getter done".) 



So I'm going to stay at home, clean my house, and eat (probably) most of the pumpkin chocolate chip cake I baked last night. Also, loss is hard. For a long time.

Sunday 27 October 2013

Welcome!

First post; welcome to my blog! Herein will lie my musings, ramblings, and stories. Mostly real-life things. You'll be warned if something I write is fiction. I promise.

Who I am: A wife, daughter, and sister. A mother to one angel baby and one fur baby. I have a home-based business that I work on a part-time basis, and I also work full-time at a large insurance company (read: paper pusher). I wish I could be a Stay At Home Wife with my business, but the timing isn't right yet. One day.

In the meantime, my husband and I are trying to conceive our first take-home baby. I was pregnant for a very short time in the summer of this year (213), but alas, it ended, and took a piece of my heart with it. Our little Raspberry. So, we've started over. There will probably be a post about it later on in the blog.

For now, I wanted to just start a blog again! It's been a while since I've done the whole blogging thing (pretty sure I was single back when I last blogged), so now, my feet are wet, and the adventure can continue! Huzzah!