I. had. another. miscarriage!

So, yesterday I posted about I hadn’t been writing, blah, blah, blah… I couldn’t really. I was going though something. Well, that was it. I was pregnant. Then I wasn’t anymore. Four known pregnancies in my lifetime. Two live births. Two take home babies. One living child, Kroix. What? Yea… I have an average of 25% when it comes to having children. Sids baby (Mimi), Kroix, then two miscarriages. Not back to back, but close enough.

I just had my lipo August 31… then bam, pregnant come October. It wasn’t an accident, but I wasn’t expecting it then either (because 40). Found out early November and was pretty happy. Didn’t think anything of it because well, “I’ve been through enough. Someone else’s turn to endure hell.” Nahhhhh, hell wasn’t finished with me yet. Early December I had a bout of bleeding and went to the ER the next morning (because really, there is nothing they could do if that were the case anyway)…. and it measured weeks behind. Like basically, I got pregnant and got a + the same day. I floated to my Dr, same thing… plus low heart rate. That shit continued for 2 whole weeks until right before Christmas… the whole while preparing myself and just wanting answers. I got them, right before Christmas. I was just like “Ok, what’s next. I don’t want the pill again.” and I opted for a D&C… aka a surgical abortion. Kenny, my boyfriend/Kroix’s dad took me and stayed with me the whole ordeal. Afterwards, I was treated to seafood. It was over. Possibly my last chance to give Kroix a younger sibling was over. Right before Christmas. Merry Christmas to me. I no longer felt any kind of Fabulous at 40…. more like Imperfect at almost 41. Broken even.

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At least that’s how I felt. I knew going in the statistics weren’t exactly in my favor due to age. So, basically, only few people knew to begin with. Why? Do you know how it feels for someone to say, “Maybe it’s just not meant for…” during a trying time? Kill. Yourself! Twice. Let me know ahead of time so I can make sure you’re revived… so I can kill you again.

In my late 20’s/early 30’s I had a cut off age…. I am past that age. You know that age. That age that when you were younger “I will never xyz…” yea, that one. When I thing back I keep thinking why wasn’t I trying to have kids when I was younger like everyone else? Why this? Why that? Because I had a plan, and kids or that teen parent shit weren’t on them. I had my daughter at 28. Perfect age right? Bam… she died. It took me years, and I do mean yearzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz to get back to myself after that. That’s something that bothers me. I feel as though I waited too long and that’s what put me in the predicament I am in. I had Kroix at 37. Almost 10 years later, which put me on the fast track to having kids… I waited to the right time then the right time was actually behind me. Especially being that my mother started menopause younger than I am now…. I am on Bitch, c’mon now are you kidding me time. LOL, you’re funny time.

I went to my post op appointment last week, and my Dr thinks everything is fine and we can just try again if we want, but in case I feel I don’t want to she did give me a prescription for NuvaRing. I was on that during my dry spells and when I wasn’t in the right head space to have another… mainly so that I wouldn’t have a period. Having periods during times like these give me a more severe form of PMS called PMDD. So now do I want to try again, have PMDD, or fill my prescription w/ the chances of never having another one? Fuck. Not only that, but she put in an order for me to have a mammogram…. which lets me further know that my time has passed.

Just like with anything else, I know 2018 will get worse before it gets better… but shit, how much more do I have to put up with?

Adding to my list of things to write to my younger self:

1 – Men are assholes later in life, too. Don’t wait. Pick one and deal with his bullshit.

2 – Men like your father don’t exist anymore. 99.999% of them are broken. Quit looking.

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