Tuesday, February 18, 2014


I've had my HCG quants done twice: once at 4 weeks past miscarriage (404)  and again at 5 weeks post miscarriage (105). That's a drop of 299 in a week. Sweet, I thought. Excellent. At this rate, I should be HCG free inside of a week. LOL FUCKING NOPE! I'm now at nearly 7 weeks post miscarriage, and still getting very faint positives on pregnancy tests.  MAKE. IT. STOP.

And guess what? Meanwhile, everyone everywhere in the history of everything is pregnant. Women on my favorite non-pregnancy related message board are pregnant. My cousins are pregnant. Women in every other commercial on TV are either pregnant or carrying a baby around. Acquaintances who probably shouldn't be pregnant? Pregnant!!!11!1!!1 Oprah. Lindsay Lohan. Richard Simmons. Eleanor Roosevelt. All pregnant. Hell, I'm pretty sure my own grandmother is pregnant at this point. (The dead one. Also the live one.)

WHY WHY WHYYYYY. If I can't be pregnant, can I just not be pregnant now? Is that so much to ask? I had to have the awful, shitty luck to land with a miscarriage-- could not the universe or Shiva or Baby Jesus or Oprah or someone have mercy upon me and get these mother fucking hormones out of my system?!

I'm 29 (getting very close to 30), and when I told some family members about the-baby-that-wasn't, there were some murmurs of "hur hur, about time," and so on. I am just fucking WAITING for someone, anyone, to make a comment along the lines of, "when are you going to have babies already," or maybe make some "hur hur, about time" type comments when we have a "rainbow baby" to announce, because I WILL TEAR THEM THE FUCK DOWN.

I feel like an angry two year old, full of impotent rage, unable to stand it any more, screaming from the hideous injustice, fully aware I'm unable to do anything about it. It's tearing me to pieces. The loss isn't enough, apparently; I also need to sit through a prolonged getting-back-to-normal period. I feel like somebody wiped their ass with the fabric of my soul. I just feel worn and shitty and ragged, with an ugly, gaping hole in the middle left by my baby.


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