Even with hope comes fear. Some days I’m down right terrified. Every single time I pee I have to look at the toilet paper. Every cramp and twinge of pain leaves me clutching my stomach and hoping it is just growing pains. As much as I dislike vomiting, the days that I do it—one, two, [...] [...]
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I’ve thought about it every day. Usually more than once. And yet, by the end of the night I had yet to write a single word. Day after day. I never intended on walking away from my blog for over a month. But I suppose it wasn’t entirely by accident either. Because a month ago [...] [...] It’s a weird thing, this sadness that I’m feeling over the miscarriage on Sunday. It’s a different kind of sadness than the one I experienced back in January. That was a devastating sadness. Losing the baby the first time completely blindsided me. I never expected that to happen. It had never happened before and when [...] [...] Saturday was 9 months since the miscarriage. Sunday marked day 42 since my last cycle—nearly 2 weeks late from a “normal” start date. Monday I picked up a pregnancy test to try to answer that nagging question, am I pregnant or is my body still just broken. One pink line. Still just broken. [...] There are days when I think the depression is getting worse. Days when I have pretty much zero interest in doing anything. And to tell you the truth? It sucks. It’s bullshit. I know therapy is helping. I’m recognizing things about myself that have been eye opening and healing. But I don’t think it’s enough. [...] [...] March 3, 2010. That is going to be one of those dates I remember for a very long time. Like December 30, 1999—the day JQ and I shared our first kiss. Or August 17, 2008—the last day I breastfed G-tot. Those are days I hope to never forget. March 3, 2010 was a Wednesday. It [...] [...] |
     
 
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