Dark chocolate
Not the creamy milk kind, but the kind that's sorta bitter and makes you pucker just a bit. That's my life the last month. Overall, good stuff. More of the same wouldn't be the end of the world, but there are those moments when I want something sweeter, smoother, more gentle in my world.
You see, last month I was pregnant again. Unbeknowst to me, certainly. This is not rare, more than one third of all pregnancies end on their own, most of them weeks before the lady has any reason to think she might be pregnant. This was one of those. I know about it because I bled a lot after getting a vaccine notorious for causing miscarriage. So I calls me up my doc and asked, hoping to be told it was a normal part of the birth control pill I was using while nursing the Pirate. Nope. Wanted blood, that doc did. And sure enough, I was "a little pregnant". So I bled for a week and lost my baby. Any other month, it would have been nothing other than insight into my sometimes mysterious body. This month it was one more thing to tear me a little bit.
I am torn from my home of five years, up rooted and reeling through a new house. A house I love and feel comfortable in, albeit new. I am torn from my friends, three I leave behind and one who drifts far away, following her own family's path to the other side of the country. I am torn from the idea of what my own family might be, could have been, sometime in the future.
*sigh*
So I'm all torn up by lots of tiny cuts. It makes me mad. That's how I feel lately. Mad. Volatile, like I want to rip away from my own life out of spite and stalk away to a some brighter, lighter life waiting for me just over the horizon. I'm mad every day and I spend a lot of mental juice trying to remain calm for the sake of my family and my the subterranean fear of completely loosing control.
You see, last month I was pregnant again. Unbeknowst to me, certainly. This is not rare, more than one third of all pregnancies end on their own, most of them weeks before the lady has any reason to think she might be pregnant. This was one of those. I know about it because I bled a lot after getting a vaccine notorious for causing miscarriage. So I calls me up my doc and asked, hoping to be told it was a normal part of the birth control pill I was using while nursing the Pirate. Nope. Wanted blood, that doc did. And sure enough, I was "a little pregnant". So I bled for a week and lost my baby. Any other month, it would have been nothing other than insight into my sometimes mysterious body. This month it was one more thing to tear me a little bit.
I am torn from my home of five years, up rooted and reeling through a new house. A house I love and feel comfortable in, albeit new. I am torn from my friends, three I leave behind and one who drifts far away, following her own family's path to the other side of the country. I am torn from the idea of what my own family might be, could have been, sometime in the future.
*sigh*
So I'm all torn up by lots of tiny cuts. It makes me mad. That's how I feel lately. Mad. Volatile, like I want to rip away from my own life out of spite and stalk away to a some brighter, lighter life waiting for me just over the horizon. I'm mad every day and I spend a lot of mental juice trying to remain calm for the sake of my family and my the subterranean fear of completely loosing control.