found – miscarriage feelings

I recently found this note I had written in a journal.  A beautiful journal I had bought (because I have a journal obsession) to write down my feels after having my fourth loss.  It only had this one entry in it.  I tend to do that, buy pretty paper, books, journals, pens, write a few things here or there and when they are less than a quarter full put them on the shelf and never look at them again. I am not proud of this habit but it’s the truth.  But coming off my last digital journal share I decided to pull it out.

A bit of context first… after a failed IVF in August we decided to pursue adoption and began the long task of completing a home study.  During the process someone I know suggested I go see Dr. Xu, an old chinese medicine and acupuncturist straight from China who was known for getting people pregnant.  After the first month I was pregnant, the IVF doctors couldn’t help me here I am and this man gets me pregnant in weeks, my body did work, all my faith in the world restored. Just to come crashing down a few weeks later, we lost the baby before we heard the heartbeat.  It was by far the hardest loss I’ve experienced.  My best friend was pregnant after having only tried a month and now here I am in the depths of my despair and one of the people that had always been such a support couldn’t begin to understand my pain, and when she tried to tell me she did I would just get more and more upset.  The world felt like it was caving in and I wrote this…

I keep saying it over and over even though I know it is only bringing negative energy to me – the universe hates me.  But it has to, why the fuck would the universe put me through this much pain? Because it thinks I can handle it? Well I can’t. I CAN’T. I was doing fine. I was adopting. I was excited. Happy even. Why do this to me? WHY????? FUCK YOUUUU! No normal universe would want to fuck with someone who was finally feeling like they were taking control of their situation and moving in a new direction.

Everyone keeps talking to me like I am a bowl in a fancy china shop. Like I might burst. Well I am already fucking broken.  And I am so sick of the chin up attitude.  I am a positive fucking person, but I am so tired of being so positive. All I end up with are fucking negatives. Why? Why? Why? WHY???

I can’t stop crying. Shaking. I just want to stay on the floor of my closet until forever. S told me today that one day I would get it, I would know, that one day I would have my baby and look down at him or her and know that it was all worth it. But will I? Why do I have to keep waiting? Haven’t I been through enough? Haven’t I paid my dues?  It is my turn. It has to be.

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