The month I thought I would be meeting my baby.
Instead there is revision, exams. My due date is the date of my last exam.
That fact does not escape me. I know I could never have had both, yet the one I have is not the one I would have chosen.
I would give up every chance, every formal dinner dress, every meeting with friends. Every degree opportunity and career opportunity. I would give up the rest of my life for one more minute.
But that minute won’t come and so I am revising. I am studying. I am doing everything I can to go to university.
I feel as if I owe it to them not to fuck this chance up. I don’t want to fuck this chance up.
But I also don’t know how I am supposed to sit a 3 hour + English exam on my due date.
Because I am honestly more stressed about that than my exams. Every day now I am aware it is just closer and closer.
It feels like the walls are closing in and somebody is standing on my chest.
I don’t feel panicky. Just hollow. Tired. Stressed.
About exams, life, moving out. Moving away. About the fact that I pretend to be fine every day of my life.
I don’t know how I am supposed to cope living so far away from my partner, they have been my bedrock during this crazy. We’ve done the long distance thing a bit before, before I’d changed schools and he’d learnt to drive (a skill that frustratingly escapes me as I struggle to feel my feet propperly and therefore the pedals.) But I don’t want to do it anymore and I have to because my uni choices are away from home as the course I am desperate to do doesn’t exist in our local unis.
If we want that future we talk about we have to work our asses off for it. And we will. But this month sucks.
Love and support always,
Surviving Miscarriage Together x