Absence

I know I have been somewhat absent from the blogging. I have posts half written but I can’t seem to find anything left to finish them.

Bar this one, but it’s more of a ‘such and such’ has been happening rather than a ‘I am feeling’ post, which is what I’m currently failing to write.

I am in a funny place at the moment. I can’t pretend I am not muddling about quite a lot.

It feels strange to be punted back to the crying every night. The last few months had been different. June passed and I felt hopeful again, my dreams had been more peaceful but this last couple of weeks have been full of nightmares and strange dreams that don’t make sense in the morning.

I know that the amount of time I have been spending in near constant proximity to babies and small children is taking it’s toll on me a bit mentally.

And the dislocated shoulder hasn’t really helped me feel much better about any of it. Also the pain doesn’t help the dreams at all.

I got hauled back to the destructive thinking that I experienced early post loss, of not feeling like I deserved to be a mum to Emmet because I couldn’t protect him, from my genetics, or from his passing.

I was pretty useless and in bed for a few days with not much I was able to do but think because of my shoulder, and I know that just isn’t a good idea for me. I got trapped in the ‘you cant look after yourself how would you manage a baby’ loop, which ultimately leads to the ‘what if you are seen as not fit to adopt’ loop which is followed by the ‘you don’t deserve to be a mother’ loop in a spiral of self doubt and loathing.

Today at Forest school I was asked if I had kids by one of the smaller children. I said no, but maybe someday, and did the *super enthusiastic* topic change of asking about new puppy they were telling me about earlier.

I dread questions like that. From kids you can just deflect it with a change of topic but some adults really try to push it.

A lot of my family realy question my decision to adopt and often belittle it by telling me ‘you’ll soon change your mind’ etc…

I am greatful that my sister doesn’t do this, and pretty much ends all conversion with a shrug and a calm statement that ‘things tend to work themselves out’ and makes another cup of tea or offers a dog walk.

Considering she is 20 years older and we don’t have a single drop of shared blood we are remarkably similar. (She is the Daughter of the man I refer to as ‘Dad’ or my Step-Dad on the blog although he isn’t married to my Mother and legally neither, it hasn’t changed the fact he has been more of a father to me for over half my life that my Biological Dad. Therefore N is my sister just as much as P (biological) is my brother.)

I think I have been successful in reaching an end point for this post. I also know I need to get back to the 5 happy things every Sunday as I have missed a couple lately, and I don’t know if anyone cares for them particularly, but I shouldn’t forget them as they do tend to be a bit if a help in terms of managing to employ positive thinking…

Love and support always,

Surviving Miscarriage Together x

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