This ain't sunshine and roses...

If you've read all my prior blog posts, you probably have noted how positive I am in this situation. If you're looking for that here, you've got the wrong post and you proabably shouldn't read this one. I've been looking for a new topic for a post, and have been struggling with what to say. I feel everyone has come to expect this beautiful letters to Scarlett and updates on her progress. I am burnt out to put it simply.

I'm pissed. I've been here almost 11 weeks with my daughter. I've cried, I've laughed, I've smiled. I've enjoyed beautiful moments watching her grow that I wouldn't have otherwise seen had I been pregnant. But I'm pissed I got robbed of that experience. Everyday I log onto facebook and I see posts of these mommies with big bellies and I'm jealous. But I'm even more so pissed when I see one of them complaining about how hard it is to be pregnant and how they're going to do this or that and speed up labor. If you've posted about that recently, then yeah I'm talking about you. Every single one of you have seen my posts you've seen what I'm going through. Better yet, you've seen what my daughter is going through. You think pregnancy sucks? How about visiting your child in the hospital for 11 weeks? How about waiting agonizing days before you can hold your child? How about wondering what tomorrow holds for your child, or if they'll even live past next week? Would you rather have this experience or yours? Yeah, that's what I thought. Walk a mile in these shoes, I promise you'll cherish every back ache, foot swell, kick to the ribs etc...I didn't get that. Millions of other women never get that.

I'm pissed. I have watched families come in with their babies AFTER we did and leave ALREADY. I believe I now officially have the oldest child in this unit. I am so sick of this hospital. I'm sick of the ugly carpet with stupid designs. I'm sick of all the beach decor, that is supposed to be calming, but at this point comes across tacky. I'm sick of the wires my baby is hooked up to. I'm sick of the melody of machines beeping. I'm sick of watching my child struggle daily and always coming up short. I'm sick of staring at her empty room, all set up, ready and waiting, and wondering how much longer until she's there. I'm sick of spending my nights alone, in a bed that isn't mine, while my husband sleeps in our bed alone (better be anyway :) miles away.

I"m sick of another woman coming in and telling me how to deal with my child. I'm sick of her telling me when I can do the things a mother is supposed to do. I'm sick of being told, do it this way or that way, when I want to do it MY way.

I"m sick of people telling me they're proud of me and how strong I'm being. I know they mean well, but what do you think I'm going to do? Tuck tail and run because I'm in a hard and scary situation? This is my child, and I will be here for her until the day I die. I don't have time to break down and cry. I don't have time to be a mess. She needs me to be strong for her. I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for the beautiful little girl who melts my heart every time she looks at me.


Sorry for the vent. Scarlett is now 5 lbs 2 oz and cute as a button. She's off oxygen and in an open crib. Just waiting on her to decide she's ready for a bottle so she can go home. Its a lot harder than it looks.