Here I am 11 days from what should have been my due date. I’m putting baskets together for some unexpecting moms who give birth on what should have been my due date. My heart hurts. My eyes hurt. My body hurts. I am unexplainably depressed and weary. I am pushing through a 40 hour work week with my twenty-second birthday lingering at the end.
I don’t know about you, but I am DEFINITELY not feeling 22. I feel like I’m 30.
I think people forget everything I have experienced in a span of 7 months. Let me remind you.
April 15: I found out I was pregnant.
May 21: I graduated college.
May 21: I got engaged.
Juneish: I started the plan for our future home.
June 10: I announced my pregnancy.
June 30: I found out my baby was dying.
July 7: I lost my baby boy.
August 22: I got a “big girl” job.
September 16: I married my biggest supporter.
So, no, I don’t feel 22. With all that I have experienced I should be 30, right? Okay, at least 25.
I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. Between saving for a mortgage, paying bills, working 40 hours, cleaning my house, taking care of my dogs and my foster dogs and mourning the death of my first child, I have no time to do much else.
Graduating early is for the birds. Growing up is for the birds. Losing children is for the freaking birds.
I’m over it.
People keep asking me how I am. I smile and say “I’m good”. I am not good. My friends are having babies next week. I am NOT good.
I’m ready to crawl into a cave and act like December hasn’t always been my favorite month.
With that being said, I am pushing through. Just send some prayers my way and lots of wine. I’m just kidding (unless you actually want to send me wine).
If you’re in the giving mood and want to help add to my baskets, you can send any baby/mom needs to: 6205 43rd Lubbock, TX 79407