I’m 22 weeks pregnant tomorrow & the Black Dog is visiting. I am very depressed, I’m spent two of the last 3 days leaking, dripping tears endlessly. I feel like I am drowning, overwhelmed by sorrow & shit.
On top of the crap that is being dealt out liberally throughout Blog Land, my friend and two time cycle buddy has had devastating news that seems to get worse daily and she is now faced with at best a selective reduction of twins to a singelton at 32 weeks, at worse the loss of both babies. I’m reeling from her news, I’d thought I’d considered pretty much every dire outcome but this is a new one to me. The consition affecting her son is progressive, it wasn’t picked up at a Level II scan at 18 weeks but was obvious at her next scan at 22 weeks.
My MIL has returned all our young baby clothes, S is beginning to talk as if we will have a baby (a son!) in October. C still doesn’t know, I still haven’t said ‘I’m pregnant’ out loud.
I am habituated to grief & disappointment and I find it as hard to imagine those wounds healing as I do having a live, healthy baby in four months.
