Dramatic much?

I’m really quite alright over here. I had a bad day, on Tuesday, and I’m probably still a little hormonal from adjusting to birth control, but I’m OK. I actually considered deleting Tuesday’s post and pretending like it never happened. But I’m lazy, so thar’ she blows.

Yes, I’m broke. Who isn’t? I got emails and comments from people in the same boat. People just like me: late 20’s, single, childless, with decent incomes. People who are older and younger. Married. Pregnant. Mothers. It sucks ass that life is like this, but it is. And we all deal. I made some plans to be more fiscally responsible. Plans I can keep. So there’s something.

Plus, sometimes life’s just too expensive and you take help where you can get it. I’m lucky enough to have a loving person to help me, instead of ONLY relying on banks and credit agencies. I should be happy about this, not sad and teenage-angst ridden.

As far as the other? That thing I promised y’all I’d stop talking about?  That’s really OK, too. Yes, sometimes it’s hard and I get sad and cry. But it’s OK. I’m OK. Yesterday, actually, was really rough, and I ended up sobbing to JS for over an hour about just how horrid I felt about it all. There was something in the air, and it felt like the miscarriage happened days ago, rather than weeks. But, JS and I did talk. A lot. And it helped. A lot.

Maybe it’s because I’m not used to being in a mature, adult relationship, but I was surprised at how theraputic it was to just ramble on and on about my feelings, and have someone else listen attentively, saying nothing more than “It’ll be OK,” or “I don’t mind that your nose is making snot bubbles, really, just let it out.”  We talked about all the things that happen, internally and externally, that contribute to That Thing  being such an emotional ordeal…and how letting it be a Big Deal is GOOD and NORMAL and GOD, Lady, just give yourself a fucking break!  But also, we talked about how we’re doing, as a couple. How we’re helping each other; how it’s good to be there for each other through the shitty times as much as through the good times.

We also talked about what’s next. When we might start to entertain thoughts of tiny little socks and tiny little feet that can fit, wholly, into your mouth. And before he could say “please don’t eat my imaginary baby,” I felt 100% better. Because I’d had an adult conversation about my feelings, and someone had listened to me and responded positively to my feelings. And we came up with a “game plan,” as much as one can for life.  No, I won’t tell you what it is, because I’m incredibly superstitious.  And also because it’s fun to have secrets.

Even though the grief is near; even though nothing will replace the life that almost was, but wasn’t,  I’m letting myself feel excited about what the future holds…uncertain as it may be.

Technorati Tags: Relationships, Life, Miscarriage, Pregnancy