I had a Mexican Hurricane tonight, so I am apologizing in advance for typos and triggers.
I’m fine until I drink, and then all the inhibitions come crumbling down.
I killed my baby. I stopped her heart.
I knowingly did this.
And I’m ok with it.
When I say I’m ok with it, I don’t mean I’m happy. I just mean that I would rather have this outcome than others that I’ve read about.
It just means that after I’ve had a drink or two that I can’t keep the smile on my face and that I can’t pretend anymore. The proverbial show is over, and I start to lose it.
I’m angry, sad, guilty, and slightly relieved- all in one horrible cocktail that no one else wants to drink – it’s mine alone. And it’s one hell of a hangover.
When I’m drunk, all I can think about is that I killed my baby. I wanted her so badly. I wanted this baby. I wanted to wear maternity clothes, and show off my bump, and complain about swollen ankles and engorged breasts. I wanted to be woken up at night with 3:00 feedings and dirty diapers. I wanted all of this.
And instead, here I am. Drunk and blogging about my loss, which isn’t a loss at all.
As much as I tell myself that I don’t need to look at the what-if’s, I can’t help but think that I’m supposed to be 26 weeks pregnant. I’m supposed to be preparing for my substitute in late May/early June.
And yet here I am. Drunk. On my period. And I don’t know whether I should look forward to April or fear it. I guess I need this extra month to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to have a child in 2013. That my perfectly planned pregnancy isn’t happening. No, wait. Who am I kidding. Perfectly planned? I’m elated that I ever even had a positive pregnancy test. My first and only.
Do I publish this intoxicated rant? I’m almost sorry that I’m sad right now, but I’m not. I don’t have to apologize for it. Or anything.
This is me being drunk and sad right now, and there isn’t anything wrong with it.
At least I won’t be crying by the time my husband gets home. I don’t want to upset him any more than he already is. I get worried about crying in front of him now. I feel like that he’s tired of comforting me,which I know he’s not, but I feel guilty for feeling so upset over a choice that I made.
I’m just feeling selfish right now.
I’m wanting my child.
I’m wanting something that was never mean to be.
My child was not going to be healthy. She was not going to a life that was going to be comparable to mine.
It feels like time has stopped still, but I know it hasn’t. It feels like I’m being punished, but I know that I’m a good person. It feels like it’s all a nightmare that I should have woken up from two months ago. That this is what happens to a friend of a friend of mine -not what is supposed to happen to me.
I’m egotistical, I’m selfish, and I’m depressing right now. But that’s ok. I’m not apologizing for any of it.