I've been processing a lot in the last week.
The main thing it seems to come down to is shit happens.
Without bitterness, shit happens.
With sadness, and joy, shit happens.
I've been getting a lot of "you must be devastated!"
And I think I'm worrying people by saying, "no, shit happens".
Because I've been wanting a baby for a *really* long time. And it seems to be the world view that when you don't get what you want you throw a tantrum.
Don't get me wrong. I've been crying, and shaking my fists at the sky and shouting "WHY!?", but I've also accepted the situation for what I know it to be.
There are ways to make life easier and more joyful...like knowing that shit happens.
I feel like once I accept a situation to be what it is, I can *move on*. I have more clarity, I'm not in fight mode, I'm not *angry*, I'm looking at what it *is* and I can move forward with a clear head.
Like I've said 100 times before, the hard part of accepting is remembering that acceptance isn't the same as *liking*.
I flipping wish I didn't have a miscarriage, and a D+C, and other possible complications. But it all happened.
If my accepting my situation is freaking you out...oh well, shit happens.
Trust me, I'm not ignoring it, I'm not in denial.
Gahd. Being in the hospital made sure of that. *shudder* As far as hospital visits go it was fine. Everyone was nice enough. The only person who was truly truly compassionate about my situation was a porter though. I can't imagine having to be with so many sick people all day everyday. I think I was the only person who didn't throw up during my stay in recovery. It takes a special person. I think I got all the special (not short bus special!) people yesterday.
(sending out a big thank you to all the staff yesterday, with an extra hug to Mr. Porter)