Blessed But Bitter

As I was hobbling out of my room on my tree trunk fluid filled legs (thank you c-section) to head to the NICU a mom holding her just born baby was wheeled into the room next to me.  And I thought, "So that's what it's like to hold your baby right away and take him with you immediately."  I was happy for her, for her family.  And not a little bit resentful >_>.

Our family building journey has been, well, a journey.  All kinds of ups and downs and tangents.  Despite all of our struggles, though, I try to remember how blessed and lucky we really are.  One IVF.  One.  And we got P.  It was a rough pregnancy, and P came early with an unwanted c-section, and I didn't get to hold him right away.  But he didn't need time in the NICU and after that initial yuck, he was with me.  So, bitter, yes, but it could have been so much worse.

Finn was, as we know, a complete surprise.  And an uncomplicated pregnancy.  Until, you know, P decided it was time for him to come. And another (horrid) unwanted c-section.  But this time he is in the NICU and I'm trying to split my time between home and NICU.  I can't be there 24/7, not with P at home and Hubby working, albeit it very little.  I want more than anything to have him with me.  I don't want to pump and pray it's enough for him.  I don't want to see him with an NG tube.  But again, I know we are lucky.  He could be worse.  We're looking at another week in NICU as opposed to friends of mine who have gone through MONTHS of this.

We seem to get a taste of the horrid as opposed to the really horrid.  But I'm still bitter.  I know we're lucky, but I'm bitter.  I'll get over it, but I mourn what could have been.  I feel terrible that my body apparently can't stay pregnant full term.  Someone said, "well maybe next time."  I'm done.  There is no more next time.  I only ever wanted 2 children.  I can't handle more.  And even if I did, I'm not sure I trust my body.  I know I don't.

I feel like I sound whiny.  But it's 4 am.  I'm pumping.  My toddler is wide the fuck awake, and my baby is in a fucking warming crib in the hospital.  I'm entitled.  A little, maybe.  I'm also stupid hormonal.

I just wish it could have been different.