Sometimes I’m Not Ok

I haven’t written because I’m having a hard time putting my thoughts into coherent sentences, but today those thoughts are just spinning in my head and giving me a headache. I think I’m slowly beginning to accept everything, but I’m not really sure because one minute I’m ok and the next I’m breaking down. My anger at God has subsided immensely, especially after the "realization" that my mom was taken from me when she was to get ready to meet Liam in Heaven. As much as I miss her, I’m grateful that my baby is safe in her arms. I listened to some songs on Youtube today, and one of them had the lyrics, "Help me Lord cause I don’t understand your ways. The reason why I wonder if I’ll ever know, but, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same, cause I’m still here so far away from home." Since we lost him I’ve been so angry, begging God to give me a reason that after waiting for so long, we were finally blessed with our son, just to have him taken from us. The song helped me realize that what I’ve been saying is true, no reason would ever be good enough for me and it wouldn’t take away the pain. Although my anger is no longer directed at God, it’s still there. I’m angry at myself, and the world. I’m very bitter right now and I’m worried that it’ going to manifest into resentment. I’ve written about it some, but this is the hardest part for me to put into words. I don’t want to wait to get pregnant again. I can’t express my feelings without sounding extremely selfish and I don’t know how to make anyone understand that my reasoning isn’t because I want to replace my son. Maybe it is complete selfishness. I’m the one who wanted kids in the first place and one of the biggest reasons I don’t want to wait is because my arms physically hurt worse than I could ever imagine. I’ve lived with the aching arms for so long and I just can’t stand it anymore, it kills me. I don’t really have any other "reasons," but it hurts me to the point of me shutting down. Yesterday Darryl and I were joking about how much space he has in the bathroom and he mentioned buying condoms. I immediately spat that they could go in "his space" because I, "don’t fucking want them." After that I shut down so I wouldn’t lose it. He seemed to think it was because I just don’t like condoms (True, they pinch!) and asked me if I was going to get on the pill. I’m surprised he didn’t seem to notice the coldness in my voice when I responded with a short, "I have to talk to the doctor." I know I have to respect his choice, thus making my mind up for me without me getting a say so, which just makes me even more angry about it. I know he wants to heal and in his words, "get right," before we have another kid, but it’s so hard to accept when I’ve waited so long and it hurts so badly. He’s asked my opinion, but all I say is that he has good points for why he wants to wait. In all fairness, he does have good reasoning, plus there’s the fact that the only insurance I can get that would cover it would cost over $350 after adding the cheaper maternity option, but none of that makes me feel any better. none of those reasons eases the constant misery I live in. Then there’s the guilt. My body hasn’t even completely healed yet, I shouldn’t even be thinking about getting pregnant, but I’m obsessed with it. When I’m not thinking of my son, I’m thinking of getting pregnant again, getting angry because I can’t and I don’t have a choice, getting worked up over insurance (because that’s another deciding factor that I have no control over), and just obsessing over how long I may or may not have to wait. I don’t know what I think getting pregnant again is going to solve. Obviously I’ve learned that pregnancy, no matter how far along, is no guarantee that I’ll take home a baby. Plus, I hate being pregnant. I don’t get PPD, I get prenatal depression. At least it seems that way, every time I’m pregnant there are a lot of factors that cause the depression, so it could just be that. Plus, I’m absolutely paranoid when I’m pregnant, which originally stems from the miscarriage and if/when I get pregnant again it’s going to be even worse. My doctors are going to HATE me! Oh well. Then there’s the fact that I despise being "helpless" and having to have other people do things for me. I know they mean well, my coworkers were more than happy to sit me down and not let me do ANYTHING, but it’s irritating when it’s something I’m perfectly capable of, like taking out the inside trash. I know it would be even worse if/when I get pregnant again, if I’m even able to work. We don’t know why my fluid was low, though they suspect it was leaking, meaning I could very well be considered high risk and might even have to be put on bed rest (another reason why its a good idea to wait at least until we have a bigger savings built up.) meaning that I won’t be allowed to do ANYTHING! I couldn’t even be on bed rest for 4 days when I miscarried (Though that is nearly impossible when you have an 19 month old running around!). See, I can see all the reasons, and even point out some of my own, but that doesn’t help the desperate obsession. I feel so guilty about it, I feel so torn. I know that even if I were to get pregnant that it wouldn’t take away the pain of losing me little boy. In fact, I can almost guarantee that the guilt would be even worse. Early in my pregnancy I wrote an entry in my pregnancy journal that was directed at Miracle. I felt so guilty (even after 4 1/2 years) to be excited about being pregnant again and that I was happy to have made it as far as I was. I know it was just after the 8 weeks mark because we lost her at 7w 6d. The guilt I felt was incredible, even though I’d "recovered" and was at peace with her being my guardian angel. I imagine it will be even greater next time. So why do I want to go through that now, when I’m already so full of guilt? Is the ache in my arms driving me that mad? I don’t want to say that I just want a baby because that just sounds wrong. Obviously I would give everything to have my son back, but I cant have him. Nothing I say or do is going to bring him back, that much I can accept. I can wish and beg and pray, but I know it won’t make a difference. The only option I have is to have another child, not to replace their brother, but to bring some sort of peace into my life maybe? I don’t know what I hope for, other than a healthy baby. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rhonda Ford

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