When it Rains, It Pours

This is the worst week. It might not be so bad if it were only for one thing or another, but a few more are piled on each year. I took my cat to the vet today, Krista has a heart problem and now the outlook is getting worse for her. She has maybe a year, or two if she's lucky, to live. At least she is blissfully unaware of the misery to come. Which is better? Knowing that when she's only 3 years and 2 months old she will die sometime soon, or having a beautiful calico named Sasha and one morning when she's 3 years and 8 months old she drops dead on the kitchen floor. Neither are better, the question should be: Which is worse.

It’s Mother’s Day this weekend. Just 2 days after the 2 year anniversary of Isabella’s death. Not to mention that when I was still happily pregnant with her I was told by my f-i-l that I would not be allowed to celebrate Mother’s Day since I was not yet a mother. I had a baby growing inside me, but it didn’t matter. Every time I think of what he said my blood boils, what a slap in the face, it’s almost like he knew she would soon be dead and I would be torn to shreds. And he didn’t give a shit.

I’m going to Carol’s Mother’s Day walk on Saturday, it’s the only bright point of the whole week. As sad as it is to gather and remember our precious babies, it seems like the only way I can “celebrate” being a mother. I'm actually going to try to raise some money for it too, I have a donation promised already.

I went for my blood test yesterday. It was negative. My doctor is on vacation until the 11th, so I stopped taking the injections and prometrium. I could talk to the “on-call” doctor but any other time I’ve had to deal with someone other than my doctor it’s a lesson in futility and frustration. My own doctor is the only one who knows anything at all when it comes to my treatment, and he’s the only one who treats me nicely or respectfully.

I feel completely lost now. I don’t really know where I am in my cycle but it doesn’t matter, I’m in no mood to try. I don’t even know if I still want to have a baby. This is my Everest. I want to keep going because that’s all I’ve known for almost 3 years now, even if it kills me or tears apart my marriage. I feel so beaten down.

I got home early from my business trip, I’m glad that’s over. But getting home just brought all the getting pregnant issues back to the foreground. I just have bad luck, I’ve been pregnant 5 maybe 6 times, but these last few were the worst. I should never have gotten my hopes up, I should know better.

Or should I just give up?