Morning - thanks for the lovely posts last night and sorry for the self-indulgence.
If you can indulge me some more I need to put a few things down and then I focus on someone more interesting for a bit.
I want to write this because I want to share my story with the new folks and because I need to face up to it and perhaps writing it down will help.
From the moment I had my DD nearly four years ago, I knew that I had found myself in motherhood. Before then I was essentially an emotional car crash waiting to happen (and happening regularly). As soon as I was pregnant I found peace. And as soon as DD was born I wanted another.
I had two mcs which knocked me for six. I think they sent me a bit loopy and I was obsessed - the point that DH and I decided we needed a break from ttc so that I could get myself on an even keel and get to the point that I could cope if it didn't work again. We also agreed that the next time would have to be the last, whether the pg was successful or not (due to age, constant upheaval of waiting for that extra member of our family, putting everything on hold - just in case).
Last March I found out I was pregnant. I was over the moon but so so scared. I laughed and joked with work clients that I was going to stay in denial just in case. But week by week my hopes crept up. At 11.5 weeks I started bleeding and braced myself for the worst. And then I found out the worst wasn't even on my radar. The scan showed my lovely baby, kicking and waving at me, heart beating strongly. But something wasn't quite right and within a few minutes they confirmed the baby had a severe case of anecephaly, that it was 100% certain and terminal. Probably before I carried to full term. They suggested termination and this happened within 48 hours so I could have a surgical termination rather than deliver the baby. The hospital were horrible, they arranged a funeral without telling me and when I complained told me I could come and pick up my specimen myself if I wanted. The funeral went ahead and my baby's ashes are in a different county to me.
The night after the termination I started drinking again. I tried to get counselling but the first woman was so horrible and the second said the waiting list was very long. They have offered me genetic tests but I don't want to go back to the hospital. And its hopeless I can't really try again because its too painful and I am getting older each day, which will bring further risks.
I could say ... so I drink but its not that simple is it. Everyone has shit in their lives, loss, bereavement, pain. Not everyone reaches for a bottle. I drank beforehand - I'd just got it under control (with the help of the babes).
I want to find that peace that I had when I first held DD - that certainty that I was whole - that I was a mother. Because right now I don't really feel that I can call myself a mother because I signed those forms to terminate my pregnancy. All i know is that that is my motivation and route back to sobreity.
Sorry for long post, sorry for self indulgence. Please feel free to ignore - I kind of needed to write this down to figure out what is going on. And I feel like I have some further understanding of where I am stuck and what I need to regain.