It's Been A While

I promised myself I wouldn't go super emotional in my blog for the entire world to see, guess I shouldn't make promises anymore. I recently started going to therapy. Its been years, yes literally years, since people started telling me to go. Finally I broke down and started going. The "problem" my dealing (or in other's opinions, lack of dealing) with the death of my son. I guess death isn't really the right word, but perhaps so. I was at my six month check up (pregnancy), just having returned home from my baby shower weekend, and they could not find a heartbeat.

I delivered a still born perfect baby boy, David Andrew.

This was in 2006 and its been quite an emotional ride since then. I've heard all kinds of medical opinions saying I would have a hard time having kids, if I was even able to have them. Then I was told at the ever so great age of 18 that sooner was better than later. (No pressure, huh)

Fast forward to the present. My therapist thinks I am actually dealing with David just fine. She seems to think I am in a good place (which, I happen to agree with). My problem doesn't come from missing him as much as everyone seems to think. (Though, I do miss him) My problem is just this... I live in a "what if" fear of never being able to have kids.

I am 23, have no college education like I want, have a full time job, a boyfriend, and my always amazing dog. Things are just where I want them to be. Would I love to have a baby, sure. Though, it's not the ideal time for me right now. I know this 95% of the time. My therapist is worried about the other 5%. The other 5% leaves me unable to be happy for pregnant friends and family. This also leaves me to become a mental breakdown around new baby boys.

She thinks it will help to write in a blog (the new age diary) and write about how I feel and all that mushy stuff. I'm supposed to also write about happy memories associated with my pregnancy.

The ultimate goal? Simple, be happy with other's pregnancies, not lose my head around baby boys and lose a little of my anxiety in my "what if" world. Besides, even if I cannot give birth myself there are options. I have a cousin who was deemed my "BFF cousin forever". That is serious stuff right there. She has always said she would be a surrogate for me, and still stands by that.

Hey not all family is supportive or helpful but you do have a few right?

So, I start blogging again.

I'll end this with a happy memory...

The day of my baby shower, David moved so much. It's like he could feel all the excitement going on and wanted everyone to feel him move. He was the star of the day of course. I'd like to think that he was going to have a lot of my personality.