First off: I have been seriously considering abandoning this blog. Since I don't do the same kind of dog training I used to. Secondly, the dog that prompted me to start this blog is now dead. Thirdly (is that a word?), for some reason I'm having a lot of trouble getting my posts to publish and when they do the paragraphs aren't double spaced and I find that really annoying! ugh!
I'd like to start a new blog, I don't have a theme in mind. I suppose it could be just about my life, my growth in my Faith, and my family. That really doesn't sound so interesting to me. Just something I need to consider.
Today I talked to several people about the miscarriage. I finally talked to my Mother In Law, my sister, Lola, and my good friend Rachel. Funny how you get such varied reactions and comments. From my MIL I got some tears and she is such a good listener too. From my sister I got some good comments, and some good listening. But that conversation was more matter-of-fact, and in some way that felt weird to me....I guess I was looking for a bit of a pity party. Not saying she didn't sympathize with me--she did. I need to work on my 'expectations' of others. I find all the time, the older I get the more I need to work on those small, yet very real negative things about my personality.
I feel sad right now. Very very sad. A thought occurred to me about 20 minutes ago and shocked me a little. My heart told my head very clearly, "I miss my baby". I don't miss being pregnant. My husband mistakes those two things. When I told him I loved this baby already he said, "You mean you loved being pregnant?". NO. I love(d) this baby. He said, "OK...". He doesn't get it. *sigh*
This pregnancy was hard on me and my husband. Those 2cc progesterone shots were painful for me and nerve wracking for him to give to me. My entire hip area across my low back was patches of swollen, itchy, numb and painful skin. After I stopped taking them about three weeks ago my low back/hip area still is painful to an extent. Not to mention the numerous trips to the clinic, the ultrasounds, the drugs (I was on three not including the progesterone).
But really I didn't mind that much, because I was pregnant. My other problems seemed to diminish easily. Nothing mattered much to me except I was thrilled we were going to have another baby to love. I found myself being a better person to others around me. Funny how things can go completely opposite in a short time.
How opposite? Well, get this! When I finally was able to beginning accepting the baby had died, at that time MY problems got so large that NO ONE ELSE'S PROBLEMS mattered. At. All.
I felt mean. And I was mean. Not so much outwardly, though some of that too, but inwardly I had some dialog that was really not how I normally think. All around me people's lives were still being lived and along with that there were problems. Normally I am a responsive person to others, but not at this time. Nope. I really didn't care, and I didn't want to hear it. Because I couldn't pretend that I thought there problem was bigger than my own. Not only that but I really COULD NOT handle the added stress of other peoples problems at that time.
Don't feel great in your relationship? Oh yeah? Well my baby died and is still inside me. I'm only waiting for the inevitable time when my body expels it. So yeah, your issue isn't so bad.
Feel like your parents didn't treat you exactly as they should have? Well at least you survived to tell me how terrible they were. My baby didn't even have the chance to know what a parent was.
Mean huh? Yeah I know...I am ashamed of that. The pain was and still is very raw. Though I am now back to being more in-tune to my family and friends. I really don't ever want to feel that way again.