12 Months

It has been a year since my last miscarriage, tests from Tommys keep being pushed back every few months, in this time I have kept hoping that we will find the problem but after a year it’s being to feel hopeless.

I’m another year older than I was, another year with terrible mental health, and I honestly feel that I have achieved nothing. That’s not true, however, so I thought I’d list my achievements none the less.

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To my third child.

I’d like to start by saying sorry for not being as active, I’ve been rather down about Mothers Day, which has been seriously affecting my mood and almost two weeks later it is now the due date for the child I miscarried back in September.

The darkness has swallowed me up these past few weeks, to a point where I can’t do anything but sit in a darkened room staring into space, I can’t be of any help to anyone right now

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My Mothers Day

I will not get a card from my kids today,

No flowers will be delivered on this Mothering Sunday,

I will not wake up to breakfast in bed,

This day will always be one I completely dread.

I will not receive the customary perfume,

My day will be filled with constant doom and gloom,

I will not hear that I am the best mother in the world,

Choosing to stay on the cold floor broken and curled.

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Self Sabotage

I cannot stop, I feel as if I have been hit by a bus but I cannot stop, because if I stop I’ll think about things and if I think about things I won’t be able to keep going. Is it even worth it? I feel like I am getting nowhere, my mind is in pieces and just when I think I’ve finally cracked the puzzle more pieces get dumped on top of me.

I don’t seem to fit anymore, I can’t find that passion that fuels me, I don’t know where I belong anymore. I wanted to give answers to those people who are going through similar things from my past. But I am not healthy, I don’t have answers, and I definitely do not feel better; pain is all I feel.

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The Hidden Forest

On the darkest of nights, I see myself curled up on the floor,

I cry and I plead, “I cannot take it anymore.”

Isolated among some dench and darkened trees,

Grief could forever keep me among the leaves.

The thought of staying enters my mind,

Here I can be left to rot amongst the vine,

But my body wants me to be free,

To vanquish the howling banshee.

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The Mist

For once the land reflects how I feel,

Like boiling water on frozen steel,

I cannot see another thing,

Finally alone my soul could sing.

The street could be full of dark creatures,

Be hosting a late night feature,

You would never be able to tell,

For I’ve never seen mist so swell.

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