I am not sugar coating it, but sticking to the harsh reality of my
failure--
I miscarried at 3:30 am this morning.
I need not detail the
physically agony of the cramping which foreshadowed the horrific loss.
It is
emotionally draining after three attempts, this is the most painful.
I feel absolute rage!
I am not a victim.
I simply feel rage, I could tear some shit up had I the energy to do so.
I almost believed it too. Tomorrow would have marked 10 weeks.
I hope others do not have to experience such cruel realities of nature.
My destiny was altered when I was diagnosed w/ Premature Ovarian Failure. I’m reassured by doctors that a fruitful life IS ahead of me. Despite promising reassurance, I merely exist...day after day I involuntarily mimic the motions of life. The idea that I'll never bear my own flesh percolates through my veins. I write to document my tribulations of surviving each day. I wish not to seek help -this blog satiates my innate desperation in seeking therapy. I pray to thrive despite my diagnosis.
