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Last night I was the self-appointed Halloween candy czar at The House. Mr. CVD came over and we ordered pizza and he made fun of me and others and played with Siri on my phone. It was nice and relaxing, even though it wasn’t the typical veg out in front of the TV relaxation I could use right about now.
When he left, there were still a few kids coming by, so I continued to sit outside. Soon thereafter, the neighbors from across the street came over to chat. We don’t often get to talk for any length of time and it was nice to catch up with them. I really want to have neighbors that we can do things with and enjoy and they expressed the same thing, so it was all cool.
I noticed it fairly quickly and it confirmed an odd feeling I had for the past couple of months. She is pregnant. She says she is due December 17th (my mother’s birthday), but she honestly looks way smaller than that, so it’s a surprise I even noticed it from across the street before. I ended up mentioning the miscarriage during part of the conversation and even though I know it makes people uncomfortable, I didn’t allow myself to censor too much because it’s my truth and my life to share.
But the odd thing was that even while we were talking to them and after they left, I didn’t have that usual “I’m so jealous I cannot see straight” type moment. I was genuinely happy for them. In fact, the first and only thing I told The Mister about it afterwards was that it was sad that we weren’t having the twins for another reason—they’d have a friend across the street a month apart from them. It wasn’t like a very sad moment, it was just a realization that things had happened that way and there was no changing it. Like when you order something off the menu and realize there was something way better as a special that you didn’t order.
And that’s when I realized I think I’m in a much different place of hurt and healing than I have been before. I think this was the first time I was able to think about the twins, let alone talk about them (however brief), without tearing up. It’s not that I’m not sad about it and it’s not that I don’t wish we were in their place…it’s just I don’t feel so damn angry.
I finally get to go back to the doctor on Friday to see if we can get this cycle started. Just having a game plan is going to impact my life in so many good ways. But at least I know that I’ve let go of some of the anger now. Or at least I’m able to control it better.
No matter what the case may be, it’s a start.
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