I'm having a really bad day. Woke up early from upsetting dreams. Lay in bed restlessly reliving the experience of the d&c. Thought about my baby and where I'd be right now if we hadn't lost him or her.
I haven't cried like this in weeks. Everything feels too difficult, too empty. I can't stop thinking about what I've lost and how much I want it back. I can't see a happy future behind the blackness of this moment.
I thought I was doing better. I actually felt proud of myself for getting over that hump of grief and facing the future with optimism. I told myself I was really strong. Better at dealing with this than most people.
But I'm not. I'm weak and pathetic. And sad.
Edited to add: Thank you. Your words help so much.
And I just noticed the date. The 11th. 2 months. Fuck.