Bumper Car

I feel like I am always in a bumper car, hitting things...bam...bam...bam...my head being jerked in all these directions...being angry from being hit again, recovering, then bam....something else hits you from the other side and you have to recover all over again to prepare for the next big blow.

Sometimes, I do feel like I am recovering.  School keeps me so busy that I feel like time goes by so fast, and I am thankful for that.  The faster time goes, the faster time can heal my wounds. 

I am feeling low self-esteem lately.  I never feel attractive.  I look down, and even though I only gained 12 pounds in my short 4 month pregnancy with Gabriel, I feel like my body is so different.  And for what?  Nothing.  It affects how I am with my husband, I don't want him touching me, looking at me, kissing me.  Major components that will help us conceive another baby.  Speaking of that, I don't think that is going well either. 

Over the summer when we decided to try for Gabriel, it was fun....we had the gift of time - I was on summer break and his job was not very stressful, and we were living on the naive notion that nothing goes wrong after the stick turns blue.  We were in bliss about the idea of creating our baby.  Now, things are different.  We are tired from our day.  We are stressed from our jobs.   We are stressed about the very idea of getting pregnant again, and still 6 weeks later, not knowing what caused our son's death.  I am defeated from depression, not caring if he touches me or not, and sometimes, I don't blame him for not touching me, as I am sure I look a mess.  I feel a mess.  I feel as if I don't care.  We both have to make ourselves be together to conceive a baby.  Yet, we want it more than anything in the world.  I am so confused. 

Yesterday I had a dream that I gave birth to a baby, then another woman came and took it away and I woke up aching for my belly that I never really had, the baby that I never really had.  The difference from this dream and reality is that in my dream, the baby was full term, alive and kicking, and in reality, Gabe was a miscarriage...then it gets me thinking, and I going to lose a full term baby? 

I get disappointed in myself for not being over this already.  I usually roll with the punches fairly well, but I may be worse off then I realize.  I HATE that I am not pregnant, and I constantly wonder how big I would have been by now.   I hate that no one has told me yet what was wrong with Gabriel, and I feel tossed to the curb by my awful doctor's office.  On the bright side, I did get into a new practice, and have an appointment Dec 4 for a well visit.  If I am pregnant by then, will the doctors say it was too soon? 

Maybe one of these days, one of those blows in my bumper car will be the last, and I can get out, and move onto another ride.