Mentally, maybe I don't care, or I've checked out, but it has no power over me this time. This time, it feels like getting new glasses, really annoying glasses that require fifteen office visits, a bunch of vagina checks, and a bunch of blood draws. Just another errand, and I'll have to wait there forever. I think I have already decided it will fail. I am a planner type, not that you would know that because I so very rarely execute those plans. But this time, I am expecting to end up at Plan M. We're already at Plan G or something.
I have been too busy at work to sneeze, not to mention worry about IVF. That helps. I've been working out two hours a day. I am doing something like dance/Zumba/spin in the morning, and yoga/pilates in the evening. I am literally exhausting my body so I can't think about it.
Emotionally, everything I had is gone to Hermione who is magically pregnant with my due date with the first grandbaby. That is all over Facebook. That is all the family is talking about. I think that took all the fucks I have to give. I don't have any more emotions left for anyone's baby after mine died and hers lived. Including mine, I'm pretty indifferent to that now too.
After my miscarriage, I heard shit from any of them. I'm not saying I expected daily status checks, but a text might have been nice. But why coddle a silly miscarriage when there is a real baby? My position has been made loud and clear.
I think somewhere along the way I have made peace that this might never happen for me. This is the end of the line for me. I will try these fresh rounds. Maybe take some out of the freezer. No more after that. I am not so stupid as to keep chasing death. I am not overwhelmed at the prospect that I might never have a child. It feels like death and suffering is the hand I have been dealt. The hand I live with every day. The more I fight it, the more I suffer. So, here we go. Round #2.
Fingers crossed for you <3
ReplyDelete