I've been feeling really normal lately, which is great. Happy, laughing, mostly able to just be functional and enjoying life.
But today I feel like I've been pulled back into the emotional black hole I was in during the time right after the miscarriage. I feel like every time I take two steps forward in feeling better, something pulls me a step back and I am right where I was before. (So consider yourselves warned -- this is going to be pretty bleak.)
I am so sick of this. I am tired of having my life be hard. I am tired of grieving. I am tired of feeling emotionally troubled. I just want to be normal. I want my life to be normal. I want to have a normal baby, a normal relationship with God, a normal relationship with my husband, a normal financial situation. Well, ok. Let me clarify. I guess by "normal," I mean "trouble-free." And maybe that's not normal. I guess everyone has problems or troubles, but it sure seems sometimes like I'm walking around with my screwed-up life and everyone else around me is just doing fine and dandy and perfect.
I know that's not true. I know that everyone is screwed up on some level. This is just my mood swings/depression/whatever talking, bringing me down. It's that split of logic vs. emotion. I've kind of been dealing with that a lot lately.
Logically, I know that everyone has problems and I am not alone among my friends in feeling like I am screwed up.
Emotionally, it seems like everyone around me is normal and happy and has an easy life and I am the one who is messed up and having a hard time with it.
Logically, I know it makes sense to wait to get pregnant again. We can improve our relationships with each other and with God, we can save money, we can pay off debt, we can move into a house or at least somewhere more conducive to having a child, I can lose weight, etc.
Emotionally, the thought of waiting makes me want to cry, just full out sob. As C said today while we were emailing, "All the logical reasons to wait in the world don't fill that hole in your heart." That hole is present to the point that it feels completely gaping at times, like there is nothing to me but that hole. At other times, the thought of having a baby, an actual baby, scares me to death and I think that I can plug that hole with other things: books, movies, Brett, Audrey, friends, etc. Overall, though, that hole is there and it's not getting smaller, just maybe a little harder around the edges, less raw -- although one little emotional bump and it feels as fresh as the day the miscarriage started.
Logically, I know I need to stop eating so much and start working out more, even if that is just not having a second helping of something and walking farther to/from the bus right now.
Emotionally, I feel like I deserve to eat whatever I want, dammit! I deserve to lie around like a slug -- I'm greiving. After all, my baby died! Give me some fucking french fries! *stuffs greasy fries into mouth while sitting in bed*
As I touched on a few weeks ago, my perspective on talking through all of this with the people around me has shifted. At first, all I wanted to do was talk about it, with anyone who would listen, but now I feel a strange shyness about it. I guess I feel like I should be getting better by now, and I feel ashamed that I am still so emotional about it. For one thing, I'm sick of (most) people's pity. I know that people don't know how to react or what to say, but I'm just tired of it. Like I said, I just want to be a normal member of society again.
Thankfully, I do have some non-internet friends with whom I can bare my soul -- one who has gone through miscarriage, one who has experienced infertility, and one who has experienced neither of those things but who is a caring, loving, Godly, wise friend whose counsel I trust and whose love is always present.
And thankfully, too, we have a church that offers Biblical counseling for free, so I have been meeting with a lovely woman from church who is helping me sort through some of this.
Yet all of this remains heavy on my heart and forefront in my mind almost constantly -- even when I am happy or laughing or enjoying myself, I'll suddenly remember. And that will stop me in my tracks for a second and make me very sad. A friend (who is from NYC) related it to how she felt in the months following 9/11: it is like having a wet wool coat thrown across your shoulders, weighing you down and making you sad and lethargic.
Like today, the thought that I would have been 18 weeks pregnant today. It's a sad thing and it makes me wonder what I would have looked like, what it would have been like to hear the heartbeat, how Brett would have been acting about it, what it would be like to be at work and be visibly pregnant.
But I don't get to know that today, unfortunately. Hopefully, someday in the future, I will. I just have to hold on to that idea, even if it is not going to happen in the near future.