My hair dresser discussed how her two sisters are pregnant. Yeah, they plan their pregnancies for the same time. Must be nice, I think. Again, I am asked when will I have kids. I tell her not everyone can plan their pregnancies, some of us just get pregnant when we can. I did not say it with snarky intent. I said it because I am tired of being a silent sufferer. I am not about to tell my relatives at the wedding when they ask about my childless state Hey y’all, I’m infertile. My mom in fact, rushed up to me with my bottle of Metformin, hide it! She said. Can we find a unlabeled container to place these in! People will know! I’m not ready to tell my relatives but, but I can tell others so they are aware its out there, because we’re a whole a bunch of people and we tend to walk around like we must be ashamed. I felt good about this.
I came back to my parent’s house after the appointment. A cousin I have not seen in a year is over. She stood up to hug me. She was pregnant. Correction: She is pregnant. I was pregnant. She is 20 weeks pregnant. I would have been 17 weeks pregnant. She said, yeah, we wanted the next to be two years apart from Nora.
It felt like someone picked me up and threw me against a brick wall. I’m not exaggerating. I feel ripped to shreds. The reaction is not an intellectual one. I am about to write what I feel. It will not be eloquent and it will not be nice. It is not me. It is the basest part of me. Please don’t judge me. Please don’t hate me because I am about to wallow… and let myself self pity…. I am so FUCKING angry with the world right now. Speck, why are you gone? WHY did you leave me? Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do wrong? What did she do right? Why can’t I plan my fucking pregnancies? Why can’t I have a nice big pregnant belly? Why is my baby gone? Speck my heart remains torn into shreds. It’s raw and it smarts each time its touched. Can someone tell me what to do to take this pain away?
I’ll be okay. It’s one of those days.