Yesterday, they scraped the remaining placenta out of my uterus. Tonight, someone that I love told me that I should be over this already. Tomorrow is my birthday.
I will be 27 years old, but I feel much, much older. I feel like life has made me older than I am. I went into this week hoping that I could just relax and have fun, but after landing in the hospital (again) and after being sent home to sit on my couch (again), all I want to do is scream and crawl into a corner to cry.
I don't even know how to vocalize or explain everything in my heart right now. I've tried so hard to keep a good perspective on everything that has gone on, but at the same time, I feel so strangely lost and confused, and I don't want to just skip over the events of this summer in a feeble attempt to "get over it."
We aren't the first to lose our babies and I know that we won't be the last, but I wasn't ready for this. It was one thing to fear not being able to get pregnant; it's another thing to have tasted and seen what it was like and then to lose both boys. Part of me asks why this happened; part of me is 100% sure that I don't want to know the answer because I don't think that any reason will be good enough.
But now, I'm faced with so many questions that I don't know how to answer. How do I face my life and the things that happen in my life without feeling like I'm grasping at dangled carrots that will be snatched away before I can grab them? How do I trust His good intention when I don't even know how to find him or what his plan is? How do I face the possibility of getting pregnant again when I don't think I could survive even the possibility of losing another baby?
Maybe I'm asking all the wrong questions and maybe there just aren't answers to these kinds of things, but I just need help knowing where to start. More than that, I just need to know that He hasn't forgotten about me, that He's good, and that somewhere in this mess, there is hope for the future. Right now, I need to know that it's ok that I'm not over it. I need to know that it's ok for me to grieve for a little bit longer. I need to know that it's ok for this to hurt like hell and that it's ok for me to miss my sons. And in that, I need to find a way to communicate that my grief is not my attempt to change the unchangeable or wallow in something that I can't control. It's just my way of finding healing and answers and someday, it will be my way of making peace with this loss that has moved in and made its home somewhere in the pit of my stomach.
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