Sad

I'm just incredibly sad.

I hate grief. Do you know that some people think there are stages and steps to grief and once you go through them all your done? That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Yes there are stages, but you don't go through them one by one. And you are never "done". 

I have been pissed off since my water started leaking. Pissed at myself, because my cervix sucks, at my doctor, because there should have been more he could do, so really the medical community as a whole, at the hospital, simply because I was there and instead of a Happy Birthday sign on my door I got another leaf with a tear drop, at my husband for not spending more time with me at the hospital, but I know he was needed more at home comforting our broken hearted children. The list just goes on and on. Anger is a stage of grief I've been in before. It came first this time. It came later when Joshua was born. I am less angry now. The past few days I have been able to tell I've been less angry. But, my anger has been replaced quickly with sadness. The shock of losing the girls is gone, and my heart hurts. It's the little things, really. My milk is almost dried up (yes even that early your body makes milk), there were no babies to feed. My maternity clothes I have either thrown out or given away, there will be no belly to fill them. I missed 2 high risk pre scheduled appointments, they have sent me reminder cards to reschedule... There are no babies to check on anymore. Instead of being angry about these things I'm now just sad about them. Being angry was so much easier. You don't want to cry when your angry you want to scream. Screaming is quick and easy and then you feel better. Crying is long and hard and leaves you with puffy eyes and a headache. I would have much rather stayed angry than moved into sadness, loneliness is apart of sadness by the way. Loneliness is the feeling of missing my children. Of my arms aching to hold them. It doesn't mean I am actually alone, it doesn't mean I need to be around people, that won't help. Sometimes I can be in a room full of people and still feel completely alone.