And the hits just keep coming

Warning: may include too much personal information for some viewers.

This week has been so much fun, wouldn't it be nice to finish it off with Aunt Flo? Sure! Of course! Today is/was my original due date. The date the doctor gave me in that very first visit to her office before all the poking and prodding and ultrasounds. I am caught in one of those low points in the cycles of grief right now and I can't seem to break myself out. I'm back to feeling lost and crying at the drop of a hat.

I was thinking about all the "major" accomplishments I've made in the past five weeks...
Started to bathe again...though I'm using baby wash so I can have the smell of Alex around me during the day.
Started to wear "normal" clothes and shoes again...though none of my clothes fit just right yet (I refuse to wear maternity clothes).
Started to bother with makeup again...though I don't know why since it washes off with all the crying I do. And I don't wear eye makeup for obvious reasons.
Started back to work again...though I could care less about any of the nonsense that goes on with any of my clients.
Started talking to my pregnant friend again...though we both kept it short because we're obviously both uncomfortable. Yet another thing I've lost...probably forever...just great.

I'm on a freaking roll! I mean, what's next? With all this glorious achievement, I can hardly stand my own succes! (/sarcasm)

And if all of this sounds very me-centered...it is. And I'm sorry if I sound self-involved. I felt it coming...this is what they call "a bad day."

I think it started earlier in the week when Aunt Flo came to visit. You would think I would catch a break somewhere. I mean, I got ONE lousy week with no bleeding before she rears her ugly head. So that means that even while the remains of my oh-so-successful pregnancy were being expelled from my body, my body was gearing up despite my objections, and getting ready for another?!?! Ummm...hello!!! I know, I know...life goes on and all that crap. But this is seriously sick. My own body doesn't even recognize what I lost. Shouldn't I get some sort of pass on this one for a LITTLE while anyway?

Then yesterday, when I walked in to Drug Mart to buy supplies for my unwelcome visitor, I was confronted with Fourth of July paraphenalia. I don't know why it struck me as odd that time had marched forward, but I realized I was completely unprepared to face it. The summer is here. The summer I was supposed to share with our new baby. I immediately started to cry as I thought about how we had planned not to see fireworks because of the new baby...but now we are free to do so if we want. So there I was, walking through Drug Mart, crying over maxi pads and fireworks. Ain't life grand?