This week has all the makings to be a pretty craptastic week. This Saturday was supposed to be my due date and I am not entirely sure my body realizes that it isn't pregnant anymore. Especially after the maelstrom of crap it has been through, I don't think it knows which way is up. Hell, some days I don't think I know which end is up. There are some days when I feel almost good again, when the first thing that I think of in the morning isn't what I lost. But there are other days when that just isn't the way it is. And even on those days, it never lasts. It is slammed home a thousand times a day in a thousand ways. There are times when I hurt so much that I wonder how I am going to draw my next breath. Days when I ache so much, knowing I am never going to hold my little girl in my arms. There are days when I wonder how I am going to make it to the next day without collapsing into nothingness.
I have a "friend," someone I used to be pretty close to. When I was pregnant, she was extremely passive aggressive to me. Lukewarm to my face and biting behind it. With her own fertility issues, she resented my pregnancy, took it personally, and believed I had done it on purpose to hurt her. Well, seeing as I didn't even think I could get pregnant at all, this couldn't' have been farther from the truth. When I needed her the most, she was nowhere. I accepted that and tried to understand. And I did understand her need to be detached from me, but the mean comments… they hurt. Not long after I lost my girl, she got pregnant, making the comment "isn't it funny how I got pregnant and you lost yours?" No, it wasn't funny, any more than all the times I was told by her that I didn't deserve to be pregnant because I already had four boys. When I lost Mia, she told me that I didn't have the right to be sad because of my boys, that I was a selfish bitch. And for a long time, a part of me has believed that. How dare I be sad after losing her? After all, I do have four boys. And I feel lucky about that. I do. But a child is a child and I still feel her loss. She was my one girl, my long-awaited girl and I will never have her. This was my last chance. There is no more hope, no more chances. I am 43 years old and I can't ever put myself through this kind of fear and pain again. She is almost 20 years younger than me and has more chances. She is carrying that chance within her right now. Age makes a difference. My chances are over, done, gone. There will be no more babies for me. Would I adopt? Yes, I would. But I can't afford it, no matter how much I wish I could. So that's it for me. And that is one of the hardest parts of all of this. That there is no more hope. That my one chance is gone.
I have lost my faith during all of this. My faith in humanity in the face of some of the cruelty I faced. My faith in the universe for taking away what I wanted so very much. My faith in my body, this vessel that failed me and failed my little girl. I sometimes wonder if I will ever really be happy again.
I have changed, You can't help but change. And I have lost my ability to give a rat's ass about people who can't have common courtesy and kindness with me. My bullshit level has been reached and it has been breached. I have zero patience for the self-righteous assholes of the world who think a hang nail is the end of the world. Life is too short to allow myself to be used and abused and taken for granted. Why have I wasted my time trying to be kind and courteous to those who have had zero concern about doing the same for me? It isn't about becoming a raging bitch. It is about cutting the crap from my life and surrounding myself with only that which gives something positive back to me. I just don't have the energy for anything less anymore.