you just don’t get it
Me: What did they name the baby?Him: What baby?
Me: Just tell meHim: Matthew I guess…
Let’s go from insensitive to pretending the issue doesn’t exist?
Let’s go from insensitive to pretending the issue doesn’t exist? I can’t pretend. That’s my entire problem. I want to pretend to be happy.I can’t.I can’t.I want to pretend that it’s fair that a so called God blesses people who aren’t married with a child.It doesn’t feel fair.
It doesn’t feel fair.I’m told it’s not my place to decide what is fair or not fair.Is it my place to feel the way I feel?Is it my place to feel the way I feel?Can I just deal the best way I can?Let’s pretend…like my parents did. That everything was ok…when it wasn’t.
Let’s pretend…like my parents did. That everything was ok…when it wasn’t.Pretending doesn’t resolve anything.Me: Can you just give me something until I can get an appointment?
The Nurse: No because you filled out this paper that says you’re taking Megace. That’s a powerful drug. Something else might not be called for with your uterine issue’s.Me: Great…then. Can you just shoot me?
The Nurse: Are you suicidal?Me: If I was, I wouldn’t ask you to shoot me…I’d be brave and do it myself.
Co-worker: Hope is that thing you can’t let go of. Me: No, hope is that thing that keeps bringing me deliveries of disappointment. If I never hoped again, I would have never felt cheated again.
Co-worker: You still don’t know how your next doctor’s appointment will turn out.Me: Yes I do. I will be sent somewhere for a test. Then I will be sent home. Then a few weeks later I will be told something. Then a few weeks after I recover from that news, I’ll be sent somewhere else. I want to be done hoping, dreaming, wishing. Done.Me: Yes I do. I will be sent somewhere for a test. Then I will be sent home. Then a few weeks later I will be told something. Then a few weeks after I recover from that news, I’ll be sent somewhere else. I want to be done hoping, dreaming, wishing. Done.Co-worker: So stop.Me: breathing?
Me: breathing?Co-worker: That’s not funnyMe: nope
Co-worker: You already have a child.
Me: You’ve already lived 33 years. Do you still want to live another 33 or were those 33 enough?
“Him” - You’re not just allowed to be ugly like that.
Me: Why not…the situation is ugly.

I am sorry that things sound so oggity (totally made up word) in this area for you now. Nothing I can say will make it better or easier - just know I am thinking about you and I can only imagine how hard this all must be.