Today has been the most horrendous day. I suppose it's a combination of things but it has all culminated a really heavy, painful period and I feel so little self-worth right now, I can't bear to hear about or look at other people's babies lest I should break down and cry.
I hate that my body has rejected a human life three times now when I so desperately want a baby. Is it my body's way of telling me that I don't deserve to have a baby? Am I not treating my body badly enough?
Maybe I should be chain smoking, drinking bourbon by the bottle every night, shooting up, getting paid to have sex with complete strangers. Seems to work for those women somehow.
It is my hubby's 33rd birthday today. I couldn't think of a better present than to be celebrating his birthday with his first born child who should be here with us, giving her dadda lots of big slobbery kisses and cuddles. I can only hope that his 34th birthday in June next year is a special cause for celebration.