My daughter.

Hi guys. So I know I said before I wanted to come on here with a more positive blog entry, but it doesn't look like tonight will be the time. Honestly, it isn't negative. But on the other hand it really isn't all that positive either. So tonight I got the courage to tell two of my close friends about my miscarriage back in June. In three days, it will be three months since I lost my child. It's still hard on me, but looking at it now I've come to peace with it. I realized while I may not have the support of the father, I have my best friends who stand behind me one hundred percent and that means the world to me. Talking about it really made me realize a lot. For one, it made me proud to have been strong enough to talk about her. (and yes, I refer to my unborn child as 'her' because as part of the recovery process I've picked a gender for my child) It's still hard to believe that I was supposed to be a mother. That in about 7 months I would have given birth. At this point, I've come to terms with the fact that I would have been a single mother. Why? Because I can no longer tolerate Patrick in my life. He's been nothing but horrible for the most part, especially when I was pregnant. We don't talk anymore. I can't bear to look at him. It's too much. I love my daughter. She was never born, but she still lives on in my heart. I know now that I have to stay strong because I need to remember her. Her father surely won't. He's too absorbed in himself and we can't get along. Even for her. If she had been born, maybe we'd try harder. But as of now he's just a bitter reminder. Is it bad or selfish that I want to blame him? He made me so stressed while I was pregnant that I attribute him to part of the reason why I miscarried. I know it sounds horrible, but it's how I feel. And don't get me wrong, I still love him with everything in me. A first love never dies, because if it does then it was never really a first love. But he treats me so horribly that I realized I deserve better. He wouldn't have made a good father. She never would have carried his name. So from now I live for me and what she would have been. And every month on the date I will do something special. No matter what it is. I love you, Annelies. Watch over me in heaven.