Today’s been rough. I’d been distracted with an awesome gaming convention from Friday to Sunday, and now that it’s over, all my grief from last week is rushing back. I’ve been crying and pissed off all day. I can’t even put a finger on specifically why, I’m just SAD and enraged. That’s depression for you, I guess.
Then a cousin made a pregnancy joke on Facebook and a couple got pregnant on the TV show I was watching, and any recovery I had made this evening is gone. I’m so ANGRY. Even my blog title is making me cry. Cycle TWELVE? We’ve been at this for almost a year! I’ve been on a sickening roller coaster of hormones and emotions and tests and treatments. I HATE THIS. I hate every pregnant woman right now, real or fictional. It’s irrational and stupid but I just HATE them for having what’s been denied to me.
I know this will all be over someday. I know at some point I’ll be a mother. But I keep getting reminded OVER and OVER that I’d be less than a month away from meeting my baby right now if my body hadn’t killed it. MY BODY. How is that fair?
I’m TERRIFIED to start trying again. Yet every day that I’m not pregnant kills me just a little more. I’m petrified of becoming a mother, and even more scared to never experience it. All of this is warring in my head and my heart every day and if I leave the house there are babies and pregnant women and if I stay inside and go online there are babies and pregnant women and they’re on TV and they’re in my family and I just can’t ESCAPE.
Sigh. Sorry. On a brighter note, I asked and the universe gave. Due to some unexpected money, we will be able to go to NYC after all. Hopefully sometime in the next couple of months. So there’s that.
I just have to hang on. I just have to get through this, one day at a time.