let’s get really personal. let’s get really sad.

so, i finally had a REAL BREAKDOWN about my ectopic pregnancy back in july. like, i’d been feeling sad and shitty about it since i found out i was pregnant but it was ectopic. but then i just had a meltdown. (admittedly it was bourbon-induced.)

i’m not religious. i’m pro-choice. i’m rational.

but i can’t stop thinking about the fetus that was removed, along with my left fallopian tube, like it was a baby. like it was a viable pregnancy. i spend hours wondering if it was a boy or a girl, what i’d have named him/her. i think about my due date (march 21, 2014) and about how far along i’d be right now (19 weeks.) i think about how excited i was when i got that weak positive on the at home pregnancy test i took back in early july. i think about the slight cramping and the spotting.

i think about how i knew something was wrong. but how i so badly wanted to believe that everything would be okay. i think about how it wasn’t. how i lost not one but TWO pregnancies in 2013. how i found out my uterus is full of scar tissue from an iud i had in 2008. how i found out that i may never be able to carry a pregnancy to term. sure, it might not be an impossibility but still, words like “bed rest” and “fertility treatments” and “increased risk of another ectopic pregnancy” make me wonder if i even have the strength to try again.

i think about this past year and i feel a heavy sadness.

this loss was tangible. i actually LOST something. i am one tube down and two fetuses in the hole. i’m grieving but no one really asks me the REAL questions.

i get a lot of “how are you feeling’s”… they translate to “how are you HEALING?” fine. i’ve physically healed. i have scars but they’re fading. i’m on birth control pills to help my menstrual cycle along and to keep me from getting knocked-up again. i’m starting to be active again. going to shows. taking long walks. bike rides and drinks at the bar. i’m social. i’m feeling like a human again.

a sad, sad human.

no one asks if i’m sad about losing another pregnancy. maybe they just assume (correctly) that i am. or maybe they just think that i’m not sad. that i have no reason to be sad. i don’t know.

even my closest friends don’t ask. my boyfriend didn’t ask. my mother certainly doesn’t ask. so fuck, whatever.

but i’m really sad. and i’m not coping well. i drink to ease my pain. to dull my memories. i’ve always had issues with alcohol but most of the time i’ve got it on lock. don’t know if i do now. i have a hard time concentrating at work. i just want to sleep all the time. i should probably talk to a professional. i should probably see my shrink.

i don’t want to.

i just want to be 19 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby. i want to be happily uncomfortable in my growing body. i want to be planning for my future, and my child’s future, too.

i am nothing but a craggy, scarred womb and a heavy, aching heart.