so, this morning i’m teary and angry. the anger has many sides, but the big ones right now are:
a- i was totally duped into thinking i was pregnant for almost a month after i wasn’t. i feel like an idiot. or a crazy person. like i was making up all those symptoms. and did i will myself to not bleed because i was so convinced things were progressing along? that one seems kind of likely because as soon as i found out the baby had died, i started gushing blood and clots.
b- i am also angry that i told everyone i was pregnant- all gleeful and celebratory, now i’m having to come back, tail between my legs, to tell them it was a false alarm. and it means i’m dragging everyone i know through this shit with me. i think i was wrong to do that and if we try this again, i think i’ll keep it under my hat until i’m crowning.
c- and i’m angry that i dared to hope. i was so certain that things were going smoothly and that God had my back on this one, i stopped taking my temp as soon as i found out i was pregnant. had i continued, it would have started falling and i would have known a lot sooner that things had stopped in there. instead, i just went on my merry way, eating and laughing and accepting congratulations and baby outfits from everyone. and eating.
d- i have gained 8 lbs of fake baby weight. this last weekend i actually looked like i had a bit of a baby bump, which is nuts, cuz at best i would have been only 9 wks….now i know it was a swollen uterus full of blood that was pouching me out. but my love handles and fat face prove there’s more than just blood and water weight. i was eating with abandon, like i had something in me to support. and i swear i felt famished all the time. i think the hormones were still raging, like my body/mind hadn’t quite agreed that their was death and not life in there and had continued begging me to feed it. so now i am round without anything to show for it. so i ran this morning and i’m now on weight watchers strictly. i’m not messing around- if i can’t have a body that supports babies, the least i can do is have a babe’s body.
somewhere under all these layers of anger and self-loathing, i am also aware of the blessing it was to be able to carry life in me, even for a little while- and twice! it’s exciting and amazing and something i’ll always remember, even if that’s where it ends.