Fake it till you make it

I've been trying to come up with an upbeat post for like...ever.  I feel like the last few posts have been a boo-hoo, poor Beth fest. For the life of me, I don't have much excitement in me.  The last few weeks have included a root canal (me), a migraine on our anniversary (Husband) and a wicked cold that has taken my voice for two days (Husband has been so pleased).  We bought tickets to the Dave.Mat.thews.Ba.nd show in Tam.pa that's coming in July.  I think Husband agreed to spend the money because I just need to look forward to something  The first show we went to was about six months after our first miscarriage and it was the first time I felt like myself in a long time.  I'd be lying if I told you that I'm not looking for the same result.  I just want to feel like myself again.

Going back to work was ok, but people kept coming up to me and giving me hugs and saying they're sorry.  I appreciate the support, but it was really nice when I was able to jump back into giving everyone a hard time.  It's our thing at work.  The meaner the jokes, the better the friend.  What?  I work with a bunch of guys, don't judge. 


We had our first appointment with the counselor, whom I will refer to as Dr. Spaghetti.  His hair looked like pasta on his head.  If you have curly hair, more power to you.  Just umm..do something with it.  Anyway, he was nice.  Maybe a little hippy-ish.  I'm going back on my own, since he deemed our marriage healthy and Husband as one of the most supportive husbands he's seen.  The first appointment didn't really blow me away, but I'm willing to give it another shot.

One annoying physical leftover from MB is that my boobs are lactating.  I was laying on Husband the other day and when I got up, my left boob was dripping.  It just pisses me off. It's a cruel reminder when part of me just wants to forget that I was pregnant.  We have MB's ultrasound and the embryo pictures still up on the fridge because Husband wants to keep them.  I just want to throw them away, they're reminders that I want to ignore.   A big part of me wants to forget that I was pregnant because maybe it wouldn't hurt to be reminded that I'm not.  So..forgive me if I don't comment on your baby pictures or pregnancy updates.  I just can't right now, but it doesn't mean that I don't care.  Christ on a stick, I hate sounding like this.

On a brighter note, I had a nice chat with my brother in law when Husband was down with his migraine.  Brother in law asked how I was doing and followed it up with "I hope you're not blaming yourself."  He kind of hit the nail on the head.  See, when this is is fresh and I have no answers, my mind goes automatically to blaming myself.  Maybe if I hadn't taken that hot shower...or what if I took one too many tylenol when I had that headache...should I not have lifted that case of beer?  All of these stupid questions add up to me trying to find a reason as to why MB died, why my body continues to betray me, that maybe it's something I'm doing.  Anyway, BIL (brother in law) said that it's not like I'm pulling some imaginary trigger.  That really clicked with me.  He's right.  I'm not sabotaging these pregnancies and this is not my fault.  I'm not doing drugs or drinking alcohol when I'm pregnant.  I'm not subconsciously killing our babies.   BIL and I are not particularly close, but sometimes you find support where you least expect it.  Big hug to him. 

So I'm in a delicate balance of putting myself back together.  Life goes on and I'm ok until I'm not, but then I circle my way back around to ok.  Now, excuse me, but a gigantic glass of wine and a chocolate bunny are calling me.  Xoxo, my peeps.  I leave you with this affirmation:

Seems legit!