addendum

i must say, i really am good.

i also must say, i'm on cymb@lta.

i question whether my state of goodness is coming from a pill, but then i wonder why it matters. is a pill stealing my grief from me? should i be at peace with the fact that i really like being really ok? sometimes i feel like a fraud, other times i feel like i will question feeling good for the rest of my life.

i am not good at feelings. i am good at planning and executing, thinking, philosophizing. i am good at doing. i have done everything i've imagined would be good for me, everything that's arrived on my doorstep as a good character builder or wall tearer-downer. what's left are the feelings. even though i've tried to strategically place myself in situations where i would be forced to feel my grief, i'm unsure and insecure about whether i've still not acknowledged them all.

i can't just put it out there that i'm rainbows and chocolate kisses without also saying that i'm medicated.

i can't just put it out there that i'm medicated and insinuate that i think i'm failing in some way because of it. i needed help and i got a little fucking help.

i can't say i'm not a little conflicted about the whole thing.

i love being really ok. i love having the motivation to keep my house really clean. i love wanting to socialize, and i love the ability to connect with others and have kick-ass nights out again. i love (mostly) only wanting to eat when i'm hungry. i really super love not having a short fuse with my children and husband.

i don't love that i have to take a pill every night to get here, but i imagine, in light of the benefits, that sounds like a dumb thing to worry about.

the guilt, it never ends.

moving on

i received an email this morning from a pregnant deadbaby mama.

when my ivfs failed early this year, i was left with medications i would never again use. some i sent to a very dear friend who is still trying to figure out what the fuck her next move is, and the rest i sent to this mama. she's 20 weeks pregnant with a girl, and the birthday of her lost boy was earlier this month. i'm really so happy for her.

i can't believe how OK i am with leaving all that reproductive bullshit behind me. it's been a long, hard, miserable road. i am thrilled with my alive children and can appreciate paige for all that i've learned from her. i am heartbroken that she's not here, but she's changed me so much and i am so grateful to have had her. i can't change the fact that she's dead, but i can change my life.

i know that my leftover medications were just a small part of the whole process for this mama, but when i read that email, i felt so happy inside that because of paige, i helped her get pregnant. it was a little tiny bit of help, but so what?

i feel so very far out from having a dead baby, two years plus. no other babies to come, just the rest of my life. on to the next phase. the three will begin full-day kindergarten next september and i will...figure out what i'm going to do with myself as more than just a mother of alive triplets and a dead baby. it's thrilling, really.

i haven't had a bad day in such a long time. i'm thankful that i can think of paige and mostly feel heavy gratitude. i really feel that a lot of it has to do with KNOWING and ACCEPTING that i don't want to have any more children; i am done. i know how many children i will ever have, i know that three are alive and one is dead. i know i love them all.

is this it?