Friday, August 23, 2013

Stacy Marilyn


Really, I feel like I should lead in with good things I have to say about pregnancy, but right now, I am having one of those depressing moments where I don't give a damn. The following post is not to inspire you, it's not to claim any beliefs in this or that. This post is therapy for me. This post is truth, no formula to writing, just coming as I go. This post is probably left better hidden away if you're thinking from a high society stand point, but you know what? Who gives a damn? It's the internet and if it's not too busy making fake personas of ourselves for the world to see, I would like to leave a real statement.
It hurts to watch people get pregnant. It hurts to watch people have miscarriages. It hurts to watch people give birth and post pictures of their loved ones. It hurts so damn much, and what's worse, is that it hurts to feel like this and already have a child.
Elijah is my son, and he is perfect, and he is wonderful. He's.. literally my little miracle. I'll tell you that story another time. Literally came in to this world by way of circumstances that can only be concluded as an act of God in my opinion.
This isn't about Eli.
This is about Stacy.
Stacy is a little girl that I want so terribly bad. Stacy is a little girl whom I have had dreams about that I don't tell anyone because I'm afraid to. Stacy is someone that I'm not sure anyone can understand if I were to try, because she's not here.
When I was pregnant, I was scared. Matthew came along and long story short, we're making it happen and living the dream. There was a TON of judgment from EVERYONE. He's not the real father. You should marry the biological. He shouldn't be dating a pregnant woman. She is only marrying him so that she doesn't have to do this alone. She's a slut and she's getting what she deserves. Why does she get to have a baby without trying, but I can't have one at all? Why did her son, someone who wasn't supposed to be here, live when mine didn't? 

The best part is that, he wasn't planned. He wasn't expected. He was created from something so awful, so terrible.. and because all of that past is behind him, behind us.. I feel he will always be perfect, and happy, and rarely ever cry. He's so pure, so good. And f*ck you if you don't think I should have been given him.
It's also the worse part, that he wasn't planned. I was robbed of that moment where you get to try for a kid, where you get to test the pee stick, where you get to plan how you're going to tell your significant other, where you get to plan a nursery and nest and for the most part have it together.
A lot of women, when I cry about this, use comforting words such as, "Well, that's what happens when you're being stupid." "That's what happens when you have unprotected sex." Guess what? It was protected. Elijah was MEANT to happen.
I guess the real reason I am writing this post is because I'm crying again about Stacy. She's the girl that I can't have. When Matthew and I thought about having another one, we weren't stressing over the small stuff. We loved the first piece of our family and we wanted another. Can you believe that some people would say - and not even behind my back - Why do you want another? You already got one! - Don't cry that you can't have any more. You had one. That's more than any of us. - Your pain comes from wanting your cake and to eat it, too. 

My favorite form of invalidating my pain and frustration with not being able to have kids (at least right now. I say that because I just can't give up on the dream that I may one day meet Stacy through.. I don't know. Some miracle) is when people tell me 'Don't give up. There are people who can't and then ten years later, something changes and they can!'

Alright. Let me stop crying, your point is so well made. Let me forget this pain, as if it's no big deal that Matt and I tried, and tried, and tried. That we went to a gyno, and then to a infertility center. That we both got tested. Matthew is fantastic. Guess who's not? Guess who seemingly has ALL the right parts, but not oil to work them? Guess who's the reason that this family will never meet Stacy.
Honest to God, I feel like she's someone - something that I need to let go. I feel like she's a dream. Having one child almost killed me, yes, but I never thought it may be the reason I couldn't have another. It's just... And I feel like an adolescent saying this, but...
It's not fair.

How can you miss someone you've never met? How can you dream of someone who can never be?


This sucks.