I understand that this is not the best time for a rant. But really, when better? Horrible things happened. I’m allowed to react horribly, if only for a minute. So here are my irrational and wandering thoughts. Not sure if they make sense to anyone but me, but I need to get them out. *Warning* Childish cursing to follow:
If you didn’t love and support this baby while it was alive, don’t you DARE contact me now, now that it is dead, with your empty and pathetic “show of support”. You assholes. You just want to be the ones to “pick up the pieces” so that you get the glory of having “been there to help me in my time of need”. Fuck you. You weren’t there. You weren’t there. You weren’t there.
I called who I called because they were THERE for me. Weather or not they thought surrogacy was a good idea, they were there FOR ME. I have an awesome support system in place. You butt-hurt because you weren’t on my list of available shoulders to cry on? Why would I call you? You want nothing to do with this pregnancy or this baby. But now? Now that it’s DEAD? You all of the sudden care? You know what? Care when I see the heartbeat for that first time. Care when I’m gleefully dealing with morning sickness or outgrowing my clothes. Care when the baby is ALIVE. It was much more important and needing of that love and concern when it’s little heart was still beating. Now? Now you care? Fuck you.
Yesterday, I cried a lot. I cried out of confusion, out of pain, out of guilt. Irrational, but still. This baby died. On my watch. It was my turn to take care of it, and it died. My fault? No. I know that, but still, it was on MY watch. And I don’t know why. Why? Why why why why???
Today? I’m done crying. I have cried for this wee one, and I am happy it is on it’s way to whatever it was destined to do. I’m not religious, but I find myself thinking spiritually in times like these. Maybe this baby has served it’s purpose, and now it’s on to something better. I hope so. I know I am a changed person for having this brief time in it’s life, and I know that change is a good one.
No, today I’m just angry. Angry that I don’t know why, angry that there was nothing I could do to prevent this. Angry that P-Daddy has to go through this, angry that I can’t go over and give him a hug. Angry that people who have previously shown such disdain now think they are deserving of being my comfort. I’m angry. It’s irrational, but it’s still there.
So I started bleeding today. And cramping. And bloating all of the sudden. And I have a migraine. I can’t get in for a D&C till Tuesday. So if I have a full miscarriage before then, I have to collect the “tissue” and save it in a salt water bath to bring in for testing. I have to collect the “tissue”. Somehow, it’s “tissue” now and not a body. When does it stop being a body and become tissue? Does it require a birth first? See? Even that pisses me off. It’s not “tissue”. It is the much loved and desired body of a baby. Don’t trivialize it like that. And I have to collect it.
So today I’m irrational and angry. But it gets better, I’m told.