"You're so strong"

I'm really fucking tired of being told I'm strong. I'm really tired of NEEDING to be strong. I'm really tired of God giving me the most I can handle at any particular moment. Why does EVERYONE else get an easy day and I don't? I went from losing D, to prepping to lose AJ for a year, to losing AJ for year, to pregnant again and terrified, to losing another baby all in a row with NO break. I understand that God thinks I'm SuperWoman or some shit, but why do I have to get it back to back to back? And even super heroes get some down time! That's why they have their human identities! I mean, COME ON!

People ask how I'm doing and all I can say is, "I'm okay. I'm always okay"----Why can't I be doing great? Why can't I feel awesome? Why can't I have what everyone else on this fucking planet has? EVERY day I wake up to a dead son. Every day I wake up to pain. Every day I wake up with doubt in myself. In doubt of my body's ability to give birth to a healthy child. My body's ability to NOT fail another child. I feel like I've failed all my babies. Like, for some reason, I don't deserve to have more and love them for years and years instead of just minutes.

I'm tired of fear. I'm tired of bitterness. I'm tired of anger. I'm tired of the way this makes me feel. I don't hate anyone on this planet, but every time I go through this, I think "I could hate a lot of people if I tried"---sure, there's lots of people I don't like, but NONE that I wish harm or negative things upon---but for every person who tells me how strong I am, I have to fight not to wish that they knew how much it costs to be this strong. For every person who tells me to have hope, it takes everything I have not to wish that they knew what it meant to be totally hopeless. For every person who tells me that my babies are in Heaven waiting on me, I struggle not to think that I wish THEY knew what it was like to want to wish for death to be with the other SIX children who need me but to know that I would never leave the one here who depends on me. And for every single person who tells me that they're "sure" my next pregnancy (or "this" pregnancy this time) will be better, I long to have that final surge of hate in my soul to be able to tell them that they know nothing and that I wish that they knew what it is like to not be sure of anything again.

I have spent the last month planning things two ways. If I stay pregnant and if I don't. Because I've learned that I can't plan to be pregnant for 9 months. There's an 86% chance that I won't stay that way if history is any indication. But, you can't just pretend a pregnancy doesn't exist until the baby is born either, so you have to plan for both when you live in my world.

It sucks to have 18 newborn diapers that I may never use. It sucks to have breasts that ache to nourish a baby. To have arms that burn with emptiness. To have a heart so full of love with only one little boy to heap it onto.

And people wonder why I don't care that my son is a mama's boy. Why I love co-sleeping with him. Why I breastfed him until he turned two.

He might be the only chance I have to love a child, and that KILLS me.