For a while there I was just going to let it go and not blog anymore. Most everyone I know has Facebook now so I saw no real point. But I've decided I need to do some good old fashion venting and I really can't do that via Facebook.
Let me start out by saying that 2010 was, to date, the worst year of my life. I am now in a state of depression that I feel the need to talk about. I'm having trouble moving past it. I am not looking for sympathy. I was completely content to suffer in silence which is exactly what I was doing. That was until this fucking depression started to affect me physically. (I'll get to that later) So now I feel that if I don't get it out and (hopefully) let it go or it will never get better.
Why you ask was 2010 such shit? I had not one, not two, but three miscarriages. Yep! That's got to be some kind of record right? 3 in 12 months. The first one I was 6 weeks, the second was 7 weeks, the third I was 12 weeks. My very first one back in 2008 I was 9 weeks. So that's 4 babies that I will never hold. 4 babies that I have loved from the moment that the lines popped up on that stupid stick, that are gone. 4 grandchildren that our parents will never spoil.
Please understand that I have a good life. I have the best husband on earth. We have a good life. Jobs. A roof over our heads. We are by no means rich but we aren't hunger. I don't ask for much. I never have. I don't want the world I just want to be comfortable and happy in my little piece of it. Terry & I have done some pretty sweet things. More than some people will ever do. Which is one reason I feel so guilty for being depressed. But I can't stop being sad. I HATE THIS!!!
Everyday I wake up and am grateful for everything I have. Then I hear a song or see a baby or a pregnant chick and my wall crumbles a little. Most days I can rebuild but other days it's too much. Truth be told I didn't even realize I was depressed until 3 days ago. For the last 3 weeks I have been suffering from "mystery pain". It seems to come from nowhere last a day or so then move to a different spot. From hip to wrist to knee to a finger to shoulder etc. I have no other symptoms. Except the ones associated with depression. Awesome.
I believe that the first step to me getting over this is to accept that I really have a problem. I have a problem. Fine. I don't want to talk about it I just want to write about it. Please don't tell me that the Gods have a plan or that you know how I feel. You don't and I don't give a shit about Their plans. This is MY life and I have a fucking plan! How you like that?! See, I'm a little angry. I'm working on it.
And before you ask, yes we've been to a fertility specialist and we know the problem. I've taken the steps to help neutralize it. It's a gene thing. I still may never be able to carry a child to term and if I do it may have down syndrome. Of course.
Okay, I'm spent. Until next time.