May is not an easy month.
Two years ago, on Mother's Day, May 12, I did a test and found out I was pregnant. I was happy, I was naive, I thought that positive test equals a baby in 9 months or so. It didn't happen. I had my first miscarriage on Father's Day, later in June.
My second miscarriage in the fall of 2013 had a due date somewhere around May 20th (I did not really look at the due dates at that point).
And then there was my third miscarriage, on May 9th last year.
I am writing all this down, and again I cannot believe this happened to me. How did all of this happen? How did all this happen to me? How did I survive all this, in one piece, at least physically? Would I ever be able to pick up pieces of myself and put them back together?
...And I cannot even drink anymore.
Two years ago, on Mother's Day, May 12, I did a test and found out I was pregnant. I was happy, I was naive, I thought that positive test equals a baby in 9 months or so. It didn't happen. I had my first miscarriage on Father's Day, later in June.
My second miscarriage in the fall of 2013 had a due date somewhere around May 20th (I did not really look at the due dates at that point).
And then there was my third miscarriage, on May 9th last year.
I am writing all this down, and again I cannot believe this happened to me. How did all of this happen? How did all this happen to me? How did I survive all this, in one piece, at least physically? Would I ever be able to pick up pieces of myself and put them back together?
...And I cannot even drink anymore.
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