Tonight is Dessert Theatre at E’s school. It’s a fun and casual performance done while eating baked goods and ice cream. I love it – it’s always the funniest show of the year. But this year? It’s tainted a bit for me. Because I shouldn’t be there.
Over the summer, when I found out I was pregnant and they gave me my due date, I remember looking at the calendar and thinking…doubt I’ll feel up for dessert theatre since I’ll have just had a baby. I sat there with Wes last night and felt a bit sad that I wasn’t home with his newborn sibling.
When you have as many miscarriages as I’ve had, every month has some sort of depressing day in it. Maybe it’s the anniversary of a D&C, or of a bathroom-floor miscarriage. Maybe it’s a lost due date. Maybe it’s the day you found out there was no heartbeat. Maybe it’s the day you took the positive pregnancy test that was supposed to lead to a joyful birth.
I don’t fret over them all. I rarely fret over any of them anymore. My heart is cold and bitter about my pregnancy losses. We’re considering giving up, burning the crap out of my innards so I can finally have some relief from endometriosis, but forever deleting our chances of future pregnancies. So, now the sadness is mostly replaced with bitterness. I’m mostly just pissed off now. Pissed off that I have this shitty system that causes me pain. And while – of course – I’m blessed to have the children I have…I also had to recently run into a store with my purse over my rear, buy a pair of sweatpants, and change out of my bloody clothes in the back of my van. All of this was done relatively easily because every month I keep emergency garbage bags and paper towels in the back of my van. I typically keep clothes too but that day I didn’t have any because I had already used my backup clothes the DAY BEFORE.
So…yeah. When you suffer as greatly as I do certain times a month? It’s easy to hate my body more than loving it for the gifts it’s given me.
But this week? I should have a baby this week. And that was probably the last pregnancy I’ll ever “enjoy”. The nurse said to me at my D&C, “You’ll try again, right? I always hate to see people end on a loss.” I understood her point completely, you don’t want to end your reproductive history on a loss if you can avoid it. But I also don’t have a lot of strength left, so chances are I’ll be ending mine in just that way…a loss.
So…I’m sad and a bit bitter right now. Also angry. Angry that I don’t have that last baby in my arms, keeping me from my oldest son’s performance. I envisioned taking that baby to E’s graduation and the pride at holding my newborn child while watching my firstborn get his diploma. That won’t be happening either. I imagined all of the family being able to meet the new baby when they came into town for E’s graduation – and how perfectly that was going to work out. I imagined the pictures I’d take of my child and my brother’s child – and how happy I was that they were going to grow up together.
And all of that is lost, and it’s hitting me a bit harder that most of these painful dates do.
But I’ll be fine. I’m certain it’s the lack of sleep this week (don’t ask) combined with feeling poorly (don’t ask) and sadness over impending graduation of my oldest child which has my heart torn into a million pieces anyway right now. I know my anger and sadness will pass…I just needed to release those feelings into the blogverse in hopes for a bit of the healing power that has always been here for me before.