Pep Talk

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Little Man and I finger painted this morning. He almost never wants to do art, so I was excited he was interested. it was even his idea. So, we got out the fingerpaints and I was just talking to him while he painted. Then he insisted that I paint, too, so I painted with him. By the time we were done, he had determined that we painted a tiger, carrying a tiger ballon. He and I are both riding the tiger balloon and having a fun adventure on it. I love his imagination. It’s pretty much the first thing I have done alone with him since we found out about the miscarriage. And being that I am over the top emotional all around, it was a nice special moment. I want to frame it and hang it in my office at work.

After painting, we met today’s second goal. We went to the park. It’s cold out there. He was dressed properly, me, not so much.

The general malaise has kicked in. This is the part I knew was coming and that I got the pills for. I hope they work quickly. I got through this once. Millions and millions of women have gotten through this, and many of them have done it multiple times, too. I will get through this…I just need to keep reminding myself that it will get easier. The random outbursts of tears will stop. The general nausea and empty feeling will go away. Life will go on. And I will be an active participant.

How’s that for a self pep talk?

This coming week should go quickly. Monday I have a doc and shrink appt. Tuesday-Thursday at work we are putting on a conference, which will mean long days, but also a busy mind. Friday will be busy, too. The the following week I will be going to Washington DC for a conference and the day after I get back is my post op follow up. That’s sort of my benchmark on how things are going. For whatever reason, it feels like that post op appointment should be a time when I can honestly see some improvement.

I am just so not in the mood to go to DC, but I know it will help the time pass. And I know that I have to get my shit together and live my life, so I am trying not to let myself cancel that trip….

My shrink said I should start journalling to get through this. She was right. My fucking brain doesn’t stop running. Writing helps.

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