Broken

I meant to write this post yesterday since I normally update on Wednesdays but I decided to procrastinate and watch TV instead. It's just really hard. I spent a long time trying to find an appropriate image for this post but they were all so depressing. So I went with a broken Weeping Angel falling down the stairs to add a bit of lightness I guess. I'd say if I wasn't depressed before I probably am now.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my health and how it has and will impact my life. Things just keep getting worse, not better. When one thing is looking up I just develop another problem. Is that what I have to live with the rest of my life? Probably.

Maybe it's true what they say and everything does happen for a reason. Maybe that's why I'm not a mom. Maybe I shouldn't be a mom. Maybe I can't.

If we had started using MA 4 years ago when I was 30 pounds lighter and my endo wasn't so bad, we might have been luckier. I probably would have still needed my lap in 2011. Whatever triggered my pleurisy/costochondritis/whatever-it-is chest pain probably would have still happened. But then I'd be dealing with that pain and the trouble of finding a doctor to treat me and the ER visits and the being accused of a drug addict with a one year old. How could I have taken care of my child? If whatever's happening now with my neck/shoulder is something I'm genetically predisposed to it might have still happened as well. Maybe the fatigue too. You don't have the option to sleep all day and not clean, cook, do laundry because you're so sleepy and it's so painful when you have a toddler. Or a one month old if my pregnancy had lasted.

Things are so bad now and I'm only 25 years old! Your body just breaks down even more more as you get older. How am I going to be able to take care of my child? How could I possibly be the mother my children deserve? Is bringing a child into this world in my condition really a good idea? Being a mom is the only goal that's remained constant since I was a child. It's hard to picture a future where that just doesn't happen. Maybe I need to realize that it like so many other dreams are just not going to happen because of the hand I've been dealt. Maybe deciding to not fight anymore, to not have children I can't take care of, makes me a good mom? The rest of my body is broken, my heart might as well be too.