More

I’ve felt like writing so much lately. I guess because I have so much going on in my world. Emotionally that is. We tend to write when we’re at one extreme or the other. When we’re overly joyed or overly annoyed. I struggle with moodiness so sometimes this makes me feel worse because I don’t want to give in to my moodiness.

I wrote the above paragraph probably like two months or so ago. Unfortunately for me, the only real time I get and feel inspired to write is when I’m at work. When I’m at home I have the time but there will always be interruptions.

Some days are just too much. I feel that the more time passes the sadder I get. Maybe I didn’t give myself enough time to grieve. I feel like I’m trying to get to my destination on a stationary bike.

We’re TTC. Each period I get is a reminder of how my body failed me. Failed my child.

It seems like everywhere I turn someone in my life is pregnant. I’m sincerely happy for them but can’t deal with either the constant posts on FB or the pictures of ultrasounds and my pessimistic look on life now. Thinking to myself, I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you. Until your child is safe in your arms and even then, that little miracle called life is never a guarantee. Yep, I’m Debbie Downer. Do I say that to them, no. But I do think it. All the baby shower invites. I want to say, “Don’t be offended but no. I’m happy for you and that is the truth and I’ll give you a gift but I don’t want to watch you rub your pregnant belly. I don’t.” Your life changes. Most for the better, but some for the worst. Unless you’ve lived it, you have no idea. And even if you have, we’re all different.

I miss Ruby. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. That I don’t wonder. That I don’t talk to her as if she were right next to me. I ask her for guidance. I ask her to watch over her brother.

I appreciate Alfonso so much for letting me talk about Ruby all I want. For never making me feel as though I’m crazy or I need to get “over it”. For knowing that I’m strong and that strength means having the courage to face things. Because believe me I faced this head on. And I accepted it. Had I not, I’d be in bed crying every day. The tears are now few and far between but the loss is still there. The hole in my heart is there.

I like to talk about her because she existed. She existed in every part of my being. She’s still here. In my soul. Forever.