Tomorrow...

4.28.14

I have good days.  And I have bad days.  Some days, I feel like going on.  Other days, I don’t want to go anywhere at all. Some days, I feel like I need help coping.  Other days, I feel like, “I got this.”

It is hard.  I think people underestimate the grief felt when a woman loses her child.  They understand the grief when the child is born, lives, and then perishes, but they fail to understand the grief that is felt when a mother loses her child in utero, and has that child either ripped from her during a medical procedure, or has that child forcibly removed from her body, by her body.  Either way, it is a traumatic experience.

I would be lying to you if I said that a part of me has serious doubts.  There is a part of me that wonders…did I make a mistake?  What if, a miracle did occur, and after I left the doctor’s office on the 16^th, just a tiny bit of growth took place?

Yes, I know that is not logical, but when is grief ever logical?  I mean, if my body expelled on its own, then I feel I would not have these feelings, but to have to have surgery, I keep wondering on some small level, if my body was holding on for a reason, and I terminated too soon.

My mind knows this is not the case, but my heart keeps trying to poison my mind. I literally have a war raging inside of me right now: my heart against my mind. 

I still have yet to schedule my post op appointment, and it has been almost a week since the procedure was done.

 

I wish they would have scheduled it for me, and then just called me with a date and time.  It’s hard to think about going back right now. I don’t want to see them right now.  I don’t want to talk to them right now.  I don’t want to walk in to that building, get in to that elevator, walk in to that office. But…if they would have GIVEN me a date and time, I would be there.  It’s just, picking up the phone to make that call…is difficult. 

There’s a part of me that can pretend that we will get pregnant again soon…all is well, and I think a part of me is afraid that to go in to the doctor, she is going to drop that other proverbial shoe, right on my head.

I told you…I have my good days, when I’m flying high, and I have my bad days…and this, is a bad day.  

But if it helps someone to see that we all go through them while trying to heal, then I will continue to allow you in my head, in my world.

And I do know deep down, that things will get better when I am in my funk.  Tomorrow will be better, I know that.  However, I have to get through this storm right now, and make it to tomorrow. And that, family, can sometimes be the problem—making it through today.