Struggling

Every day I feel like writing, and yet more and more I think I should probably just continue this process in private. It's to the point now, almost two months post-miscarriage, that I feel others are no longer wanting to be as patient with my pain and seemingly endless struggles. I also truly want to start writing some more upbeat passages filled with hope for the future, but I'm honestly just not there. Not yet. Additionally, there are so many issues I am grappling with, and some of them are deeply personal, meaning I'm not sure I could share them in this format. But, I've started this blog and a part of me wants to keep it going. It's where I've thus far chronicled this entire experience. And I've never been one who gives something up very easily.

I am still struggling. Really, really struggling, actually. I feel like there was a brief period of time where things really DID seem ok and manageable. I felt hopeful and somehow in control. I think this was right around the time when the initial miscarriage bleeding stopped and I had first started all of my (insane) efforts to try to regulate my body as quickly as possible. I felt so encouraged and hopeful that the acupuncture, herbs and crazy organic diet would be the key. Then there was the fertility yoga, the scaled back exercising, the weight gain and every other thing I thought would make this all ok. I believed I was I doing all I possibly could to heal my body and prepare it for a healthy pregnancy. And I was. However, quite unfortunately, it thus far has seemed to have little to no effect whatsoever. I am not ovulating. My basal temps are still erratic (meaning I possibly still have the hcg hormones in my body), and there is just no chance my body will be back to "normal" anytime in the near future. I can not begin to adequately express how devastating this has been, and the devastation cuts a little deeper with each passing week. Never mind the hundreds of dollars being spent every week, there is quite simply just something wrong with my body. I have NEVER had regular cycles, in my entire life, so why would some strategically placed needles, herbs and a very expensive diet change that now? And yet, I was so hopeful.

All this means is that the hope I felt at one point is little by little being extinguished under the reality of what my body is and is not able to do. Everyone keeps saying, "give it time, it has only been 2 months and your body just needs time." Well, I don't believe that. Why would my body do anything good in this whole process? It never has, and then when I miraculously got pregnant, my body could not even support the life inside of me. And so, my current relationship with this body is not good. In fact, it is awful. I despise it and I can not trust it. I feel defective and defeated. My body is just not in my control, no matter how hard I try to change that.

So where am I at this point? I wish I could say I feel better and stronger than I did 2 months ago, but in all honesty, some days I swear I feel worse. Time does heal in some ways, but in other ways, with miscarriage anyway, time just makes things worse. With time passing comes the ever more painful realization that you are further and further away from where you should have been, had your baby lived. Also, as the days pass by, everyone else moves on and forgets this even happened. They expect you to be moved on and fine too, when in reality most days I struggle to keep from crying and can rarely think of anything OTHER than the very thing I am expected to forget. I am still hurting, maybe even more so than I was when it was still a shock and so very unreal to me. I am desperate to move on, and yet am unable to do so. I am aware of the fact that no one really wants to hear about this anymore, and that even if people ask how I'm doing, they don't want the truth. The time limit for sympathy is up and here I remain, floundering on my own in this terrible darkness called grief. I hate it here, I really do. I've never hated anything so much in all my life (except perhaps Polycystic Kidney Disease).

I started seeing a Christian therapist last Saturday, and I hope that will help. All of last week it felt like the weight of the suffering in my life was increasing until I could no longer stand under the pressure. I NEEDED help and no one around me could really offer it. I feel guilty for feeling so sad and for still WANTING others to care about it. I feel sorry for constantly unloading my grief on others, and yet I can not pretend that all is well. I have always said I never worked as a waitress because I have never been able to hide my feelings and act cheerful when I'm not. I wear my heart on my sleeve and that's just who I am. Speaking with my therapist did help, and I'm thankful for the outlet. I don't have to feel guilty unloading my thoughts and emotions on her because that's her job. She HAS to listen to me. Ha.

This has been one shitty winter and I am struggling. It feels like the first 27 years of my life passed in relative ease without me ever really realizing how good I had it (isn't that the way it works though?), and then with turning 28, BAM, my whole world keeps getting turned upside down and things just get harder and harder. I know these bad times are when we are able to draw closest to God, and I am really working on handing everything over so as to be ready to just fully TRUST what lies ahead. But the truth is that if what lies ahead isn't at least a little bit better than the last year of my life, I'm not sure how much more I can take of it all. I don't want to live like this forever.