If I am normal?
Ok, I know the real answer to that, and what is normal anyways?
Two weeks ago I was wallowing in grief, sadness, and, in a way, self-pity.
Today I am fine.
Of course, my hormone levels are leveling off, and the drug is out of my system. That makes a big difference.
Shouldn't I still be sad? Shouldn't I still be grieving?
I remember when I had my first loss, I hardly grieved at all. And I felt guilty.
And I feel guilty right now too.
Of course, it's not totally back to normal. I have two friends on Facebook who are in early pregnancy, about where I should have been or a little past. When they post updates, I can't comment. When my photographer posted a contest for moms expecting in 2011, I had a hard time holding back because it hurt. I SHOULD have been able to join that contest. I SHOULD have been able to commiserate with my expectant mommy friends. If you are one of my expectant fb friends, please know that I am as happy as I can be for you. I just can't post on your ultrasound pics and your status updates, because it just hurts. I have a feeling I will think twice before posting said updates after what I have been through if we are able to have another pregnancy. I will probably still post them, but I will think twice. :)
I also have to almost physically force myself not to think too much about it. I still have questions, and they probably will never have answers. So it's still on my mind.
But in general, I am fine. Life has moved on. It never stops, does it? I'm already thinking ahead to "next time" with some good news from my doctor (that she's never had two ectopics in a row in any patient). Other than being extremely tired, I am my normal, frazzled, too-much-on-the-plate self.
And in the back of my mind I wonder if that's OK? Does that mean I didn't love my baby fully? Does that mean I shouldn't have had him?
Sometimes, being analytical in nature is torture.
(N's first christmas program ever post to follow when I find the time).
Reading the Bible Together
6 days ago