There are 2 sides to every story. There is not always black and white. There is always shades of gray somewhere. Always. I am not always right.
I don't have a issue owning my mistakes. I don't have an issues with others coming to me to discuss issues. In fact, in real life if I have hurt your feelings and I KNOW I have hurt you, that was generally not my intentions and I feel bad.
The other sign of the coin tonight isn't about feelings really. More about experiences. Experiences that most who are in a club get to "claim." But in reality they don't.
You see, I belong to the club of moms. Yet, I don't know what it feels like to feel my baby kick night after night. I wasn't even sure I DID feel my baby kick.
I am a mom who did all 72 hours worth of labor with no medication. Not because I was super woman or I didn't want them. But because taking them would be detrimental to the child I was trying to protect. But I don't want to be. I want to be the mom who gets to talk about their labor instead of looked at as second class because mine wasn't " really" labor.
I am DESPERATE to nurse a baby. Desperate to leave the hospital with a baby. Desperate to have a baby cry all night, DESPERATE to be thrown up on. Desperate to have a sibling. Desperate to have some sweet spirit be mine. Desperate to trust my instincts again.
I want all those things so badly. I count days, nights, hours, stand on my head, pee on sticks, use temperature stuff in unmentionable places. I show my chart with countless doctors. I POUR over our checking account crying wondering where we can get the 3 grand for the meds so that we can try just ONE MORE TIME.
I am missing a child. I feel panic a lot. I see a missing hole WIDE open in our little lives.
One is missing.