Fuck fuckity fuck.
Just call me Virgin Mary as that slim were these chances. The universe really fucking said, ha, there you go sucker!
What, seven years of known infertility? Endometriosis and really weird sperm, pfff, that’s nothing. Here, be pregnant naturally.
SUCKER! —- that’s how I feel at the moment. And I don’t even know what I want. I just started to recover and actually enjoy being a mother. A second one may literally kill me mentally.
FUUUUCK.
You know.. I still don’t get my subconscious.
I’m dreaming about B. again. Is it the lack of closure? Is it the fact that I’m actually functioning again as a human being? Is it the therapy sessions and medication? I don’t get it. Especially as the therapy is about my childhood and breaking the cycle in regards to my own child. I truly don’t understand it.
I honestly don’t have any romantic feelings for him or anything like that, hell I don’t even find him attractive anymore and I still have stupid dreams with him. Dreams that involve scenarios of what our life could have been. Which is silly and so out there that I can’t even comprehend where these thoughts are coming from.
Urgh.. maybe it’s the slight sleep deprivation.
Yeah, I’m gonna blame sleep deprivation. Totally.
He finally got married too. To her obviously.
Not gonna lie, I stalked a bit his page once I found out. Its strange seeing him like that, which considering that I will celebrate my 3 year wedding anniversary and have a 9 month old baby, I truly shouldn’t find it strange.
Life.. is funny.
Wish them the best, what can I say..
Seven months of being a mom. Seven months of sharing myself with another human being that I made.
Crazy how the time flies.
I’m good now though. No more happy pills, no more dark thoughts. Just trying to enjoy these last few months before she becomes a toddler.
You know, it took me like a month and a bit to realise that I’ve given my daughter the same name as B. fiancée. 🤷
To be honest, it is a classical old name which is easy to pronounce across all languages, along with also being her godmother’s name.
We also literally chose it before going in for my c section and it wasn’t on the list at all. Like not even a whisper of it.. And I truly didn’t even realised till weeks after which made me giggle.
Guess this means I don’t give a fuck anymore? Considering that it didn’t even cross my mind?
I’ll take that.
However a small part of me wonders what the fuck he will think if he finds out. :)))
Am dat de aceasta întrebare într un post pe blogul ‘a sophisticated woman’ ( how the heck do you link stuff anymore when writing on your phone? 2nd edit, uh, managed to figure it out) și trebuie să recunosc că m-a pus un pic pe gânduri.
Multă vreme nu am mai scris pentru ca eram fericita sau pe acolo. Nu aveam motive, pana la urma acest blog a început ca un mod de a abera despre B. și lucrurile random din timpul facultății.
Acum când daily grind a fost munca, casă, munca și o vacanță, doua, nu prea am avut despre ce. I mean, stilul meu de a scrie e atat de plictisitor.. Literalmente aberez despre ce m-a afectat cel mai mult.
Nu mai am povesti nebune despre sex, sau drame despre foști / facultate. Sarcina m-a afectat emotional și fizic de am simțit nevoia sa scriu iar, hence the last few posts dar in rest.. As putea sa aberez despre cum nu cădem de acord sa decoram sufrageria :)))? yeah right, as if that’s exciting as fuck.
Nu știu, ce e drept zilele astea nu funcționez cum trebuie. Lipsa somnului (deh, copil de 7 săptămâni), combinat cu alt lockdown și hormonii mei care încă sunt peste tot, m-au adus în stadiul în care sunt mai mult sau mai puțin un cartof în pat care are grija de copil.
Although it may be a bit of a post natal depression… yeeey. -_- so watch out, I may write more often now.
Dreams and secrets 