Today was a hard day. I should have listened to my body and stayed in bed, but like the stubborn mule I am, I got up, showered and caught the train to work, telling myself it would be good to be out on a sunny day and have lunch with my friend/co-worker.
I'm not sure what exactly set me off, but I started crying after lunch and I could not stop. I decided to go home and was walked out by my friend. I tried to explain my feelings to her and I started crying as hard as I had when I realized the future we dreamed of was gone. She held on to me and I held on to her, using her as my buoy.
I guess right now I'm feeling like I'm an absolute failure. I feel real anxiety when my phone rings at work or someone mentions the programme I administer. I'm fearful of running into certain people, much less talking to them about every day things like classes and induction. I can't make decisions. And I believe my feeling of inadequacy stems from the fact that I could not carry my baby to term and she died. Rational? No. Normal? From what I've been reading, yes, very. I think about the last 7 months and I get flashbacks. I see those grainy ultrasound images in my head and recall her perfect heart, kidneys, stomach, brain. All wasted. And I want fold into myself and stop being for a very long time.
It really is one day at a time. On Monday, a co-worker of my mother-in-law came to talk to me about having gone through a similar situation and how she coped. I hardly cried during our talk and she said she thought we were doing everything right during our process. On Tuesday, I found out a friend of mine is pregnant and while I burst into red, hot tears I was and am genuinely happy for her. No jealousy, just hope for her. But today. Ah. Today was a hot, tranny mess.
I cannot articulate how difficult this is. I'm looking for anything that will tell me how long it will take for this soul crushing sadness to subside. I feel like such a pariah. I make other people uncomfortable. Hell, I make myself uncomfortable. This week was supposed to be 30 weeks. I cannot believe I'm part of 1%. I will never, ever look at statistics the same way again.