First Real Non-Pregnancy Breakdown?

Yesterday was a joke. I started out the morning thinking about how to write about 'getting over the pain of a miscarriage'. I wanted to talk about living in the present, focusing on the future and all that crap. Instead I ended up bawling my eyes out, hunched over the sink in our tiny bathroom, missing my lost, never-known baby-to-be. And as with any good pity party, anger heard the noise and made an abrupt, unannounced entrance. Party crasher.


Through tears and ruined makeup I started at myself in the mirror. I couldn't stop crying, and I couldn't stop staring at myself. Wondering why I am doing this. Why I am putting David through this.... realizing how quickly I am losing hope, and how I have begun to accept the fact that each month I will be 'looking forward to trying again'.


Planning a nursery, checking out cute onesies, anticipating those first flutters and kicks, bringing the wonder of being a parent into my husband's life. What used to be happy conversation has turned into something 'better left unsaid'. I don't often indulge in those dreams anymore. It's been downsized to only being able to fantasize about being pregnant, I think about David being a father, I sometimes stand in the shower and place my hand over my stomach, trying to imagine being full of baby again.... but they're Fantasies, not Hopes. They are dirty, secret thoughts that I know I'll never 'really' get to experience, but the sick wanna-be-mommy part of me gets off on. I don't admit openly to them anymore.




And the worst are the women who were trying and trying and trying and get pregnant. They're like reformed smokers. Caution, here's the anger part. Sorry to any of my trying and trying and trying and now pregnant friends who are reading this - I am happy for you, and you are most likely more considerate and understanding than most if I consider you a friend. But my friends aside, those women are the worst. They remind me of reformed ex-smokers. It's like along with pregnancy they've totally forgotten what it was like to want, to wish, to be let down again and again. They're the ones with the smug, holy advice to just keep trying, it'll happen, or relax and stop trying, it'll happen.... and you hope you're not actually tilting your head and looking at their glowing faces and swollen stomachs with as much disbelief as you are feeling. You don't want to rain on their little pregnancy parade, after all.

I'm not cruel. I would never take those pregnancies away from those wonderful women. They deserve it as much, and sometimes more, than I do. After all, I do have two beautiful grown sons who are sure to produce grandchildren one day. Babies will still be part of my future. I just mean.... why can't I be one too? One of those smug, relaxed, happy swollen souls. I'll even bear the cross of facing my still infertile friends if it could.just.be.me.


Okay, today's not proving to be much better than yesterday. I'm crying so hard I can hardly see the screen. I need to go to work. I need to forget about wanting, about wishing, about hoping, about those stupid lines on pregnancy tests that seem to disappear even if I do manage to coax my body into producing one.