That's what I feel like most of the time. I've got nothing to say. I realize that this conflicts with the regular updating of a blog. Accept my apologies. It is a dark, wordless land where I live.
As you can tell from the tone of my last post, I've been struggling in the wake of our miscarriage. And then Misfit Mrs. had miscarriage #7. That somehow just finished me. This game has never been about what's fair, but somehow that was just too insulting. I think if anyone had spoken a word about the effing Universe and its ways, I would have bitten their head off completely. Yes, the normally caring and good-natured Augusta has grown into an angry and bitter woman.
I get it. It's part of the package deal - and we've apparently signed up for the all-inclusive dream cruise. Infertiles have to put up with a lot of shit; hope, anxiety, crushing disappointments, grief, loss of social connections, feelings of personal failure, etc. I am getting to experience a lot of what the dream cruise has to offer at the moment.
The only time I feel ok is when I am working. At work, I play a child psychologist. I'm a pleasant, well-liked member of a clinical team, who smiles a lot and gives the impression of deep personal satisfaction. I think I might get nominated for a Genie award this year (for my International readers, this is the Canadian equivalent to the Oscars).
On weekends, I stop acting. Weekends are hard.
One good thing that happened since I last posted is that I met Pumpkin during the Canada day long weekend. I went to visit my family in Montreal and there she was, having herself a little holiday with Mr. Pumpkin, so we decided to meet. And wow! is she ever wonderful! You already know that from reading her blog, but I got to experience it firsthand. For both Mr. August and I, our time with the Pumpkins was the highlight of our trip.