So Over It

In life, things seem to ebb and flow. No one expects to be "up" forever and we certainly hope we don't have to be "down" for too long, either. It's a matter of balance. It doesn't matter what your faith or religion, we all believe things generally even out in the grand scheme of things. So perhaps this year is just me paying for the good things that have happened for us lately, but honestly, I feel I've paid my share and am ready for things to turn back around. They don't need to be great or even good. I'll take neutral. Neutral would be fantastic.

This has been a bad week - maybe couple of weeks - for me. I have worked really hard to analyze myself and keep myself looking at the positive to stay off of antidepressants, even though it may not look that way from the outside. But it's getting harder and harder to stay afloat. It's like being stranded in the middle of the ocean. At the beginning, you're just fighting to keep your head above water. Then, you get in the groove. It's hard, but you realize that you can do it with slow, steady, controlled movements. But eventually, you get worn out and the waves start slapping you in the face and all you want is a little break so you can catch your breath, but it doesn't come. When I feel like this, I recap what my life has been like. It seems like that would bring me down even more - and sometimes it does - but it also brings justification for my emotions and my apparent lack of sanity.

In the past eight weeks, I went from having a healthy "normal" pregnancy with triplets, to having a shortened cervix that prompted home bed rest, to throwing my back out, to a vanished cervix that caused hospital bed rest (and horrible drugs), to losing our firstborn son, to losing our son and daughter, to having a D&C, to returning home, to making decisions about our deceased children's remains, to learning I have a large herniated disc that may cause permanent damage, to learning back surgery is the way to remedy this, to getting my first epidural shot (without the promised "happy drugs"), to learning that my insurance has denied my surgery, to a series of phone calls to fight the denial, to a second epidural shot (tomorrow). That's a lot of shit to go through in eight weeks. And this doesn't count the heartbreak, bleeding, passing of clots, and complete breakdowns that come with birthing and losing three children.

Now, as I continue to fight Cigna and gather information in case this second review is denied, I find that I'm quickly losing strength. I am drained. I am lost. I am at the end of whatever metaphorical rope I have managed to hold onto in these last two months. A friend sent me a text today asking how I was doing. My first response was "fine," but I followed it up with another text saying that I lied. The only good news I've received in eight weeks of hell is that I don't have to have a second D&C, the prospect of which was horrible news when I received it. How can anyone be fine after all of that? I'm too rational to be suicidal, but I am so over this. I'm ready to go home. I need this to start going a better direction... or... I don't know what. I just know I can't handle much more. Some people have said that God won't give me more than I can handle, but I want to punch those people. (Sorry if you're one of them. I know your heart is in the right place.) I'm telling everyone right now. I can't handle any more. I NEED things to go right and they need to start going right immediately.

I am sick of being in pain. I am sick of being sedentary. I am sick of being in too much pain to exercise. I am sick of wearing maternity clothes that only remind me of what we have lost. I am sick of having nothing to talk about but my fights with Cigna and how my medical appointments went. I am sick of making people feel awkward just by my presence. I am sick of taking pain meds. I am sick of crying at the drop of a hat. I am sick of having to explain my medical history to every freaking doctor and their however many assistants. I am sick of people responding to the loss of my pregnancy by asking, "All of them?" I am sick of making my husband sad and/or frustrated because I'm sad and frustrated. I'm sick that we haven't been able to scatter our children's ashes because of my back pain. And I'm sick at the prospect of not getting surgery and having to live in this hell forever. I am at a total loss and I am so over it.