sunday bloody sunday-

Literally. After a week of no signs of blood, I've began bleeding again. There's enough blood to need to change tampons several times a day. I started last Sunday my second pack of mini-pills. This coming Tuesday will be 6 weeks since the induction. I just hope this blood is considered normal and it's no indication of something being wrong down there. 

I have developed much more anxiety than my regular "I'm overthinking" kind of days. Every time I call my husband and he doesn't pick up I think he's gotten in an accident or has been mugged. I picture myself as a twenty-something year old widow, childless. My grandfather hasn't been well during the last couple of days, and every time my phone rings I expect someone to tell me he has died. I keep imagining his death, and I often find myself crying because he'll never get to meet my *living* baby. These thoughts usually come at night so I have adopted the habit of working even later until I feel I'll fall asleep quickly. I don't know what to do to stop thinking about my fears. 

I have been thinking a lot about Christmas and how it will go down this year. When in Boston, fall was my favorite season, and Christmas was definitely my favorite holiday. The songs, the shopping, the snow. The awesome feeling of finals being over and the cheering and toasting for a new year. Flying back home to family who I'd missed dearly. And even though my grandparents didn't celebrate Christmas, these two weeks home were the best with them. 

Two and a half years ago my grandmother died. My grandfather agreed to come to dinner with us (first time in 22 years) and we dine in our matching Christmas PJs. 

This year, I had first imagined Christmas with a newborn. It would have been literally my dream come true. I've always loved the season and couldn't think of a better one to welcome my first child. We all know how this dream turned out. 

The second time around, I was cautious enough to not think of the future until after the 12 week scan. After that, I'd lie if I'd say I did not imagine myself with my big belly and matching PJs on December 24th. This isn't happening either. 

I now have to shop for all the children in our family (there are plenty), and watch the season go by as people clearly forget about the amount of pain I'm in. 

Instead of Christmas with a newborn or Christmas with a belly about to pop, I have to deal with my family asking me why I'm not coming over to their homes as often, telling me to move on, that a month has gone by and I am doing nothing to help myself, that I am "stuck" in the same place I was 6 weeks ago, and that blogging isn't helpful as it gives me the wrong idea of how I should grieve. (As if there is a standard way of grieving... As if there's a standard way to grieve when having terminated such a wanted pregnancy.)

It seems everyone but me has forgotten what I have lived. And in part, I am to blame for the pain I put myself through. I am to blame for having chosen the induction, for having been awake when the doctors gave me an injection to stop my baby's heart. I am to blame for wanting to hold my child in my arms, even if it was just for a couple of hours, even if it meant seeing his red, tiny, cold, cute sleeping self wrapped in a blanket and then taken away forever.  

Sometimes I tell myself all I need is a friend to share my feelings with. But will I ever be able to share everything that's going through my head with a friend? I don't think it's worth sharing... I don't have a single friend that would understand my thoughts. 

I proceeded to order a candle from the "I live in your light" project for our babies. I can imagine this will be the only gift our babies get this Christmas... I must admit it is quite hard to shop for two dead babies.