Avoidance in A Life Uncommon

In exchange for gaining the cousin moving back home, and our homestead plans being put into motion, I apparently garnered the wrath of the Universe and it's been really shitty. REALLY.

I come from a long line of fertile Myrtles, and my fertility has especially been wonky what with the extended nursing and hormonal adjustments and whatnot.

I've now had three pregnancies this year, all beating the odds, all unexpected and heartbreaking. To say that I am weary is an understatement.

I'm not even upset over the losses; it is just a roller coaster of ups and downs. What I mean is, I hurt, but I am trying to bear in mind that it is the best possible outcome right now. The last two I have kept to myself, even though I knew essentially at implant. I am terrifyingly in sync with my uterus, I guess. Not so much the ovaries, though, since I had a three day window on either side of the anticipated ovulation, condoms, pulled out, AND took plan b and BAM, still caught it.

This last one was NFHT noted at a 5w2d scan, a blighted ovum confirmed. Doesn't sting any less, though.

Another baby is simply not what we need, and I know scientifically it's more that I need progesterone to keep a pregnancy currently after years of use and abuse - but it soothes my soul to lie to myself and pretend the Universe might be shattering my heart but it is because a baby is not in the cards. Not what we need. Not what I need.

All in all, my overall emotions are pretty level about it...I am sifting through anger/sadness/relief/etc...

I think the strangest part is how much I hate people and their good news lately. I want to punch them. People moving forward with babies and relationships and I am stagnant, stuck, feeling insecure because my body keeps catching and rejecting babies.

I am melancholy.

I have a fuckton more to write about, but the kids and house need me more.