Sunday, 23 August 2009

The skin I'm in...

... doesn't fit any more.

Some days I look in the mirror and I don't recognise me. There's too much age; too much weight; there's a spark missing; I'm lacking in motherhood and there's too much sad in the eyes that stare back at the me that should be holding George.

Other days I feel more me than I ever did in my teens, twenties or thirties.

Admittedly these non-fitting days are days that usually have somewhere in the region of "14dpo" attached to them so I try not to pay too much attention to the hormone riddled, disappointed, bloated brain that over-thinks over-dramatic thoughts of this calibre. But still. There they are these thoughts, nudging, insisting and nibbling away at hope.

As soon as my period arrives, which I'm sure it will by Tuesday, after a huge rush of the "Waaaaah, why me's" I start to get over it, start planning, start hoping and start wishing again. It is just so very very tiring being a hostage to time.

And for now, if you don't mind, I feel like crying big fat hormonal tears. Feel free to look the other way and I'll be back shortly with some optimism.



17 comments:

  1. extra hormonal? I am still keeping my fingers crossed...

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  2. I don't really know how to say this but, even though you might feel that way as George isn't in your arms as he should be, I don't think you are lacking in motherhood Barbara. Not in the slightest.

    It must be so very tiring.
    Hoping with you, so much. xo

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  3. We're all here for you. Tears or not. No need for me to look the other way. Just here, listening and caring.
    xo

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  4. Hi Barbara,
    I'm on the boom and bust cycle with you...probably a big no for me this month also. It's funny how hope can get so hopeful for a little while and then go to nothing, save a little bit to grow for the next cycle.
    I really like your writing, and appreciate that you share with us all.
    R

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  5. "A hostage to time".

    Exactly- I hadn't thought of it that way, but that is precisely how I feel.

    Sending you tissues and a big hug.

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  6. Big Hugs. Just big, big hugs. I think of you every single day. Still hoping!!!!
    xoxo,
    Marian

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  7. Cry away sweet Barbara. We're here whether there's tears or giggles.

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  8. Not to be cliche, but let me start with ((hugs)). :-) Barbara, regardless of how you look to yourself in the mirror, to others (and to me in my imagination) I'm sure you look like a seasoned, wise, feeling human being who is still rightfully mourning a child you lost, and another child you're still waiting for. I imagine you look just beautiful in that state. How boring the world would be if we all looked perky and sparkly all the time.

    I'm sorry about the waiting/hoping/wanting...goodness, I've been through that before. It seriously sucks. And when the mean Red Aunt shows up at the door, it's almost insulting. I could say something like "it will happen when it's supposed to" - but of course that's not what's needed to be said.

    Hang in there. Wishing you strength and peace as you navigate this hard time in your life (which you will successfully, I'm sure).

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  9. Nope, I won't be looking the other way. Just sticking around and sending loving thoughts your way. I am just so sincerely sorry for your hurt and disappointment. Loving you with all my heart.

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  10. ((Hugs)) Barbara, here for you.

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  11. Aww, you don't have to bring us optimism; bring us your tears. We can handle it :)

    I have several draft posts floating around about what I can only call an identity crisis. Probably the wrong term, but I see my thoughts echoed in your own - that in-between of feeling less like yourself, but yet more like yourself, than ever before. It's all so confusing.

    Wishing you peace and comfort, my friend.

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  12. Losing a child ages us as years cannot. Waiting for the next sign of hope is exacting. We lost baby moms are so used to tears that theyhave become a part of our lives. Cry away. Love and hugs.

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  13. I'll sit with you while you cry. I make you a cake and then we can cry together at how bad it was and then we would laugh.

    I love you Barb x

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  14. "hotage of time" ugh!! That makes me want to cry bug fat tears too...hormonal or not. You poor thing. Cry your ass off.

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  15. Sorry you are having a few rough days...you know what's ahead!

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  16. Hey Barb,

    Missing your posts and thinking about you. Sigh. I hate that you have to go through so much dissapointment with each passing month. Let those tears out. I'm hoping and praying with you.

    I nominated you for an Honest Scrap award. I sincerely appreciate your honesty and how candidly you share your journey with all of us. Check out my blog for details.

    Sigh again. I'm sending you big hugs.

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