So this weekend is my low point. I keeping wishing these few days off of my calendar for good, so far, no such luck.
4 years ago, at 6 pm, on November 17th, I chatted with my mom on the phone about Thanksgiving. We talked about us coming to her instead of her coming to our house, she wasn't feeling well. The next morning I woke up to find that my mom was gone, she had died at 1:30 am, November 18th. Most likely a blood clot caused by the chemo she was taking.
I am her only child. So there isn't anyone to share the loneliness of this day. So as everyone else moves on with their lives, here I am, remembering what November 17th and 18th means to me.
Last fall, I was pregnant. I was scheduled to see the heart beat of our baby on November 18th. I remember telling T a few days before the appointment that everything had to be fine. The universe wouldn't be that cruel.
Unfortunately, I underestimated the universe. That was the day that we found out about our blighted ovum, that lead to our subsequent D&C's and ultimately, on the journey that we are still on.
November 18th, is not my friend. I don't even want to acknowledge it. Especially since even after all of that, I believed that a BFP would still happen. So many times over those difficult months, my husband told me, don't worry, 2012 will be our year. Here we are, November 18th and this has been far from our year. Don't get me wrong. T has certainly gave me many happy moments, but at the end of the day, I feel lost. Lost without my mother to help me through these struggles and lost with the constant disappointment month after month of that negative pregnancy test.
I remember a time, very recent, that each month, I had such high hopes of a BFP. I think the worst part of where I am right now, is that I no longer have those hopes or expectations. Right now, I miss that hope. I miss that I should have a 4 month old right now. I miss my mom.