It was nearing the century mark, and, dare I say it, I don't think we're exactly piecing anymore. We're here and I don't think either of us is going anywhere.
Lord, hindsight is 20/20.
Everything is a trigger. Everything. My car. My work. My master's degree. My child. Adele. California. Planes. Brunches. Pregnancy. Some are less offensive than others. Some are known and expected, others are complete slaps in the face.
I honestly don't know if I would have stayed if I knew just how much work this would be on the other side. And honestly, I'm just too f-ing stubborn to jump ship at this point. He's worked too hard. I've worked too hard. He is an excellent father, and I seriously doubt I would every find someone who is willing to work this hard to mend such a huge f-up.
Does that mean I'm happy?
I don't know. Some days I think I am. Other days I literally can't feel my hands and feet because I am still so enraged.
I graduated with my master's in December. I walked this past week. I went to the ceremony alone ahead of my family members because I had to be there early for to pick up my regalia. I cried the whole way to the ceremony in my car.
My child turned two this past month. While also stubborn (hey, comes by it honestly), she really is a wonderful child. I love being a mother. She is the only thing preventing me from doing something extremely illegal.
I want more children and soon. But this trauma is blocking me.
I even had my IUD removed. I'm not playing any games. H has wanted a 2nd child longer than I have at this point. It's not the prospect of another child that scares me.
It's being pregnant.
It literally sends me into a murderous rage where my throat tightens up and I become numb all over except for my chest which feels like it will explode. I cannot form words because my mind is racing too fast.
H is doing all he can, really. He's going to IC and couples. He tries to come home at a consistent time nightly, and when he doesn't he's got good communication. He's better about not becoming irritated when I get into these... moods. He just apologizes and tries to talk me out of the crazy.
My mind hasn't been going to the "I need to make this all end. Now." place. So that's a positive.
In fact, if anything, it goes there less often since coming off of the ADs. Weird.
Maybe this is so hard right now, this week, because my master's came to it's final close. Maybe it's because I knew this was the first feasible month we would be trying to conceive. Maybe because work is ending in 2 days, and I will have all my summer alone with my (crazy) thoughts.
I don't want this black spot to define my life. I don't want to not have more children because of it. I don't want to be scarred forever for 9 months of insanity.
