Curse words. 3dk#@%(U$#@(U!
That's what I want to use.
I'll refrain though.
I told someone this morning that I was doing pretty good. That I was handling this second-go-round better than the first. And that's true; I am. But my day quickly went south.
I don't feel like I have big faith. I don't think I know how to praise and thank God in the middle of my pain. My faith is small, and selfish, and temperamental. It's dependent too often on my circumstances and if things are going my way.
My fricken hcg is still not all the way down, although it's close. I guess our bodies get to decide how all that shakes down. After my Sears refrigerator repair man left (good news of the day), I felt like I wanted to cry my eyes out. It was choking me. So I put on shorts and tennis shoes and went for a walk in the freezing cold weather. And I ran just a little bit. And my ears hurt when I got back. Then I did some push ups but I still didn't really cry.
I ate Taco Bueno and took a bath. I sat by Karlyn and man I love her. It's hard not to feel at least a little better around that girl.
Even though it's nice and encouraging to hear people say they think better things are ahead, I have a hard time with it. I mean, yes it's what I would say to someone but are there really? Is next month going to be better? Is the rest of this year going to be redeeming in that way? Are there any guarantees we won't lose another baby? No. There aren't.
I feel like the one thing I want keeps getting ripped away from me. I desperately want to grasp at something for control, to make some big life change, or get lost in a new hobby that takes a lot of my time - time I can spend not thinking about all this.
So yeah. I'm doing mostly ok with days like today thrown in for good measure. The thing about a miscarriage (or two) is that after you get past the initial awfulness, you just want it to be over. And get past it. But it keeps. dragging. on. And it never fully leaves. It's always a part of you - shaping you for better or worse.