I have come to realize over the past few months that this ongoing shit show of trying to make a healthy take home baby has begun to make countless “dates” on my annual calendar really fucking shitty.  Just like birth dates, graduation dates, engagement dates, wedding dates-only instead of wonderful and happy feelings (and sometimes presents) these dates are shitty.  

Really shitty. 

These are the dates you start accumulating over your reproductive shit show history-dates you peed on stick and found out you were pregnant, dates you found out your baby was really sick and not meant for this world, dates you found out you were going to miscarry, dates you actually miscarried-and the worst 2 I have yet to experience in my shit show- the estimated date you were supposed to have your first child in your arms and officially be a mom by everyone’s standards and the date in which you had that baby surgically removed from your body.

Word on the street is once you get pregnant with your healthy take home baby, and apparently once you have one- all of these shitty dates, supposedly stop hurting so much.  I have even been told by women who have gone through this (although they all were either pregnant or had finally given birth to their first take home baby after a loss/es) that the further away you get from the termination date and estimated due date, the less they hurt. 

Well I say hooey.  And speak for yourself. 

I have found the complete opposite to apply to me.  The longer I go without having a successful pregnancy on board (ie the further away from these dates I get) the harder they have been on me when they arrive.  Your sage advice of time heals all wounds doesn’t apply to this type of situation whatsoever.  Especially when I’ve gone all the way around the calendar again and am still in the same exact fucking place I was last year at this time-only actually worse-I am here with FAR less hope than what I had last year when I woke up on the date Ava was supposed to be in my arms. 

I didn’t cry last year when I woke up on her estimated due date.  I didn’t cry at all during that day actually, I was sad-but also hopeful because in my mind by this time next year-I would have a baby in my arms-there was simply no way I could be 18 months away from termination and not have a baby by then.  That thought was so outlandish, nay proposterous, that although I was sad, I just was sure I wouldn’t be sad like that for much longer-so I could manage that sadness.

Today I woke up, thought of Ava and then looked into my future and cried my fucking eyes out.  I layed there in bed and just sobbed.  Because the thought that went through my mind this year was that it is proposterous to believe that next year on Ava’s E.D.D. (Take 3),  that I would actually have a healthy baby in my arms, or for that matter even be pregnant with something that was viable. 

These dates suck, and they really suck even more when you lap them again and most likely again.  My sage advice, is prepare for sucking.  And then compound sucking each and every year if you are still without child.  Because my experience is that these dates, without hope of being a mom, and the inability to stop trying to become a mom aren’t getting any better with time-on the contrary-they are getting much worse.

On that note, I was prepared for some sadness (but horribly unprepared for the depth of it) and was with Christine this weekend.  She is in the very small handful of women that understand that time is not healing my wounds, merely rubbing salt in them.  As we sat at the table together and sipped our coffees, she got up, went to the drawer and grabbed a match and lit her candle center piece in memory of Ava, and as I watched in stunned silence as she said her name as the candle began to glow, I was thankful that I had cried so hard before I came down for breakfast that there was nothing left. 

We picked up a balloon to send Ava a little note…

and when we returned, we found that Ashly (another of the small handful of women aka my people) had sent flowers in honor of the date too…

Thank you again ladies, I am honored to have such incredible women in my life!

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