Hard Things

Wow.  This has been hard.  I wrote last time that I thought the second miscarriage was going to be easier than the first.  Boy oh boy was I wrong.  This?  Is kicking my butt.

I am so angry I'm not even sure what to do with myself.  I'll think I'm totally fine and then someone will ask me how I'm doing and I'll be reduced to a teary mess.  I hear about someone being pregnant and I cry as I congratulate them.  I really am happy for them I just can't seem to get rid of the pit in my stomach and the pain in my heart which are both screaming about how absolutely unfair it is.  It's the time of year when we get Christmas cards out the wazoo and everyone is smiling and happy with their babies and right now I can't even bring myself to try to find a picture of us for some free cards I got because I feel like there's something missing from our card.  The moments of anger come on suddenly and unexpectedly and feel like a giant slap in the face.

I should be less than four weeks from full term.  I should know my baby's gender and name.  I should have a fully decorated nursery with a closet full of soft baby clothes and adorable tiny shoes.  I should have a stroller and a car seat ready to go and I should have a baby foot stuck in my ribs at all times and a baby head making me have to pee every five seconds. 

OR

I should be past the scary 12 week point. I should just be starting to show.  My next appointment would show us the sex of our second baby.  I should be feeling pregnant and maybe even glowing a little bit.

Instead I'm just empty.

I have so many people that love me and are worried about me.  I'm very lucky that even though I feel empty, I have never felt alone.  I struggle to find things to be grateful for during a time when I'm so overshadowed by hurt, emptiness and anger but I am so very grateful for that.  There have been the few required idiots who say or do the worst possible thing for that moment.  One in particular left a mark that may take a while to heal but I'm working on getting over it.  Overall my support system could not have been any better but I need to find a way to heal myself fast because I don't really like the person I am right now.

Work is hard lately and I'm so easily agitated that I'm starting to hate my job.  I'm supposed to be done in three weeks.  Instead I'm looking toward at least nine more months of working when I just don't want to.

I realize some of this is post-partum depression.  I was warned that sometimes it's really bad after a miscarriage because the hormone drop is SO significant and you have none of the happiness endorphines to make up any of the difference.  And truly it's not as awful as I've heard the post-partum can be.  I can laugh, I can play, I can work, sleep and get out of bed and all that normal stuff.  I just feel...off.  And I hate it.  I'm so used to being so resiliant that things don't even bother me for five minutes before I've moved poast them and gone on to the next bigger, better thing.  I'm just having trouble finding what that is lately.

I had asked God quietly one day for a baby for my 30th birthday.  I was two days late for my period on the morning of my party and I thought maybe I got my wish.  The next morning proved that I hadn't.  I was so disappointed.  It's like I ripped the scab off a little early.  The edges are mostly healed but the center is still raw and bleeding.  In a way it's good.  The doctor told me to wait two cycles before trying again.  I'm sure God is forcing that on me to let my body heal some more but the illogical part of me doesn't care about things like healing or health. 
I feel like such a whiney, complaining baby lately.  I'm hoping that writing helps me get some of this out.  I'm hoping that soon I can feel better and understand the master plan in all of this.  I know there is one, I just wish I understood it.  I'm working on trusting God more and letting go of the things that I want.  It's hard but I'm trying.  I'm hoping I get a little credit for that and somewhere in all of this I can find some peace.