I hate crying myself to sleep. I especially hate it when my oblivious spouse is snoring beside me. So I got back up and am currently working on my fourth glass of wine for the evening. I spent dinner pleasantly drunk but the buzz wore off before bed. I realize I sound like a major alcoholic right now, but I don't really care. Given my stupid useless body's poor response to most medication, alcohol is really the only relief I get from crippling cramps when my period starts. It just so happens that today I am in mourning and the haze is especially welcome.
By the way - for all of you ladies with severe endo like I have - you have to try cataflam. It works amazingly well. Of course, if you are sensitive to NSAIDS like I am you will think you are having a heart attack when the acid reflux kicks in, so you have to pick your poison. Hence the alcohol. I'd rather deal with the wine hangover than the severe chest pain for days.
I wish there was someone around here I could talk to that gets this. (Hope - if you're reading I don't mean to exclude you - pregnant people are hard to be around right now. I hope you understand, and I hope everything is going well for you). The friends I could call include 2 pregnant women, one of whom is unemployed (along with her husband) and purposely got pregnant with her third when the second isn't even two yet, a 37 year old virgin, a woman who couldn't be bothered to take the pill and has had several abortions, and my sister who has access to the best medical money can buy. You can see that I have trouble with resentment in pretty much all these cases. I realize I sound like a stuck up bitch but I know when something will cause more harm than good.
I feel stupid for being this upset. I knew this was the likely outcome. I already have a 5 year old miracle. There are so many worse problems to have. But no matter how long I lecture myself it doesn't change the image in my head, the image of a baby that didn't even make it past a pound, who's head was so fluid filled I was afraid it would break open just from me holding him. I KNOW that having another baby won't make that go away, I just don't want that to be the end to this story.
It would really help if my husband would get a clue and NOT solicit sex from me when I am hurting this bad over my body's failure. He has never gotten the hint that since Aiden died I have equated sex with making a baby and him asking for it when it is clear it is just for recreation is not helping me. It's not that I don't love him or find him attractive, it's that I don't love ME. I am broken, and fat, and ugly, and useless. I have absolutely no desire to remind myself that sex will not get me what I want most. I just can't separate it the way he can, I wish I could.
I didn't expect to be so angry. I hope the days ahead get better. I almost lost it at work today. One of my very liberal co-workers was complaining about a draconian abortion law and I (very stridently) pointed out the most women find out something is wrong at 20 weeks, at which point there are no options in this area. If he didn't know how my baby died before, he probably does now. I cried all the way home and can't seem to stop. I was reminded again that the state I live in would have been happy to force me to be a life support machine, but wouldn't have helped at all once the baby was born with so many horrible problems. How can a baby with no stomach be considered viable?
Anybody have sad/angry song recommendations? I think I will need some more music therapy in the next few weeks.
I think I am drunk enough to sleep now. Tomorrow is another day.