I just had a miscarriage a little over a week ago.
This is my third miscarriage, and I have no children of my own. My husband has two teenaged children, and there are people in my life who say things like, " you are a mom, to the boys." They HAVE a mom, and I'm not her. I will NEVER be her, and I love them a great deal, but I don't WANT to be. They need that relationship with HER, not me.
The thing is, With my first miscarriage, I almost died in the process, and then I had SEVERE postpartum depression. I still haven't gotten over it. With my second, it was a little easier, since it was only a couple of days, and it wasn't so physically difficult, but I was still depressed and disappointed about it. My ex husband and I split a few years later, childless, and in his mind, I believe that our lack of children was part of his reasoning.
A couple of weeks after getting engaged to my current husband, my Brother announces that he and his wife were expecting their first child. I was happy for them, resentful, and jealous all at the same time. I wasn't even married! I should have been able to just be happy for them without the jealousy, but I was anyway. I had a hard time understanding my feelings. My best friend, a teacher that I was working with at the time, and several teen aged students were all pregnant as well. ( I was a middle school teacher) I was kind of angry about it all.
I remarried in July of 2011, and we waited about a year before trying. I did the whole taking the temperature, using a calendar, whatever would help me get pregnant. Being a Christian, and knowing that my ex would have been an atrocious father, I chose to believe that my miscarriages were God protecting me and a child from his bad ethics and lifestyle, and was positive that since i am now married to an amazing man with two fantastic children, who is a fabulous father, that God would allow me to finally become a mother. No dice. Seven months after beginning the "trying" process, I found out I was pregnant. I waited about a week after finding out to tell my parents and siblings about it, because of the last time. The very next day, I lost it. I felt this was incredibly unfair.
I am experiencing some anger, anti-social tendencies, agoraphobia, of course grief, and feeling physically terrible-tired, stomach ill, and achy. I want to be ME again. I don't want to go to church, i don't want to see my friends or family, I don't even really want to hang out with my husband, who I adore. I am torn between wanting to try again, and being terrified to have to go through this again. It is just so much WORK to think or feel. I am currently a subst_tute teacher, and I can't even make myself take a job with out having anxiety. My brother had to have emergency surgery on his ankle two days ago, and I was asked to watch my 17 month nephew. I resented it, rather than wanted to help. I HATE how I feel. I want to go back to being a bubbly, friendly, social person who likes to help others, teaches youth at church and cares about people instead of this angry, anti-social, teary-eyed mess. I know it's only been a week, but how I feel is just so overwhelming. I can't imagine it going on much longer. I'm not a danger to myself, I feel that it is important to state that. My self-worth is not entirely wrapped up in being a mother, despite how I feel right now. It's just so hard to breath, though.