Pregnancy Post 31

Connor's fifth birthday has passed, and my fifth anniversary has arrived! And as usual, no matter how sad, angry, or confused I am, I am still here.

I almost think this year Richie had a harder time than I did. The hopes of wanting this last pregnancy to be a boy are overwhelming him at this point, and Wednesday was basically the reason why. I love him. He came to see me at work, just to give me a hug. I was barely functional from being sick, so I did ok at work. I was too tired to be emotional for those 8 hours. Of course I cried off an on when I got home, but it felt good. This is the first year I haven't written to him in the journal I started on the day of his funeral. I think I still might, even though his day has come and gone. It's always cathartic. (I did, however, listen to Grace, by Kate Havnevik...the song I played incessantly after I had him. I actually forgot the name of the person that sings it, and had to think for a minute.)

There was a moment when one person kind of waved off my sadness by pointing out that I was pregnant again and it will all be ok, and the sting of that sort of comment made me want to unleash. But I didn't. I can't tell you how many people told me not to be sad about Connor because I'd just get pregnant again and have more kids. Which I knew was true, but really, is trying to replace one kid with another a healthy attitude? 

As  it was 5 years ago, I wanted to say "Can you just think of the day you delivered one of your kids? When you were surrounded by family and everyone was happy? Imagine that, but picture every one crying. Picture a stone silent delivery. Giving birth, not to a squirmy newborn, but a seven pound CORPSE. Only getting to hold your baby ONCE after dreaming about it for nine months. Having to choose between burial and cremation, and decided whether or not to have an AUTOPSY. Knowing that while you are upstairs, binding your breasts to suppress the milk that's coming in, bleeding,  recovering from childbirth, your baby is downstairs in a REFRIGERATOR ALL ALONE." But I didn't. I just acknowledged the  joy of this new pregnancy and said even with Bellamy and the newbie, I will still always miss him.

It is sort of amazing how people short change grief. It isn't like I lock myself away every day and cry about him. I have one day where it really gets me down - his birthday - and even that is too much to some. I don't understand it.

I fell asleep that night feeling thankful, of all things. Despite thinking I STILL WANT MY SON all day...as my life changes each year, I feel so lucky. Isn't that sort of fucked up? It's true though. As time passes and things change, I learn to shut the fuck up, bitch a little less, and appreciate a little more, because I really do have a lot to be thankful for, despite the gaping hole in my heart that losing Connor left. My family is ridiculously amazing, Richie is so supportive, and Bellamy just rocks my socks off. I am kicking ass in school (which starts in a few weeks - YEAH!), and though nothing about my daily routine is easy, it's mine, and I love it.

Ask me how much I love it when I am eight months pregnant, still working full time, and taking finals and my answer might have a little more of a "WHAT KIND OF FUCKERY IS THIS?!?" flair, but that happens every semester, knocked up or no. Plus I am really glad I am only in one class, that will require no term projects or papers, so it really won't be that bad. This'll be the first semester since I went back where that will be the case.

As for the pain in my ass illness that struck over the weekend...I am feeling back to normal, for the most part. Some lingering abdominal pain, and I think I am once again a tad dehydrated, even after two trips to the ER for fluids and drinking the nasty potassium stuff, but hey, I am better. I am mentally prepared for the discomforts of pregnancy, and when nonsense like this happens, it's just gd annoying. Pregnant women should be protecting from normal illnesses by an invisible immunity shield. Growing a person is hard enough without routine illness getting in the way.

Anyhow, I hear my girl or my Rico stirring, both of whom I need to give good morning kisses to! That's enough for now...