It's the day I lost my first baby. I was way too young (14), and I probably would have been an awful mom at that age, but you can't help but wonder what would have been. I know I would have tried my best and I would have loved him or her with all I am. I never got to properly grieve and process the whole experience.
Everyone kept telling me it was for the best, because I was young. My parents were dealing with their own emotions: anger at me for being in that situation, pain of finding out in the worst possible way and because I didn't come to them before making such a big decision as becoming sexually active, fear because I almost died in the process. We all found out about my pregnancy together, because my little one had settled in my Fallopian tube, and it eventually ruptured. According to my doctor, I almost bled to death.
It was a day that changed everything. It's been a long time, and I don't dwell on it much, but still, I hate this day.
Historically since then, other bad crap has kinda centered around this day and week in November.
I had to have my gall bladder removed in an emergency surgery, November 17, 2007, during what was a very low part of my life. Alone, scared and in terrible pain.
This is also the same week of the year, (Nov 20 last year) that my hubby's appendix ruptured and I almost lost him.
This November 17th hasn't been stellar either. Still muddling through severe pain in my joints, fighting a cold, all my kids are sick with me, but I want this day to have good memories from now on.
I feel like I need to do some sort of ritual or cleansing, or something, to reclaim November 17th. But I'm not sure what.
Any suggestions? Help me reclaim my November 17th?
Sorry for the babble. I just needed to get it off my chest. If you read this far, *hugs* thank you for following along on my rabbit trail.
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