Angry

I am not going to ask pardon, but I am forwarning you, my readers, that this is (obviously) not going to be a happy post.  Nor is it going to be an entirely clean one.  I'm angry, and for once, I'm going to show it.  I may feel terrible about it later, but that's then.  This is now.  And I have to get this out sometime.

My wedding.  My babies.  Both gone.  Both so unrecoverable.  One never to be redone.  Two not to be seen on this earth.  Why?  Isn't my life crappy enough?  Haven't I had to put up with enough?  Have I really been the rebellious creature my father accused me of being?  Did I really need that punishment?

My wedding was horrible.  The lack of music so carefully and meaningfully planned out.  The maids of honor fighting because my original singular MOH couldn't accept the fact that she hadn't done her job as MOH, and my second one did.  That's why I had a second one.  Half of my invitations, the ones that I designed along with the programs, never got sent out.  My father was late as always.  No, I didn't figure we'd start on time.  It's me.  I'm never on time, and especially not when I'm trying really hard to be.  But I didn't think it would be over 2 hours late!  But no.  He had to perfect my programs and my vows and make them better.  Of course the programs weren't good enough.  Nothing I've ever done was good enough.  And I almost had people leaving my wedding because of that.  They had other places to go and things to do.  And of course the first MOH talking down to my dad made things worse.  To top those things and everything else that went wrong that morning, the place hosting us (because no church would take us because we hadn't had premarital counseling) put the food that was supposed to be in the preparing room up in the wedding room.  I gave specific instructions.  How deaf can they be?  And just as a bit of icing on the cake, no one would let me do anything but sit in my chair, having my picture taken, eating, and getting my hair and makeup done.  Good thing my hair decided to be a little more wavy than it had been because no one found the curling iron that was in my bag until after the wedding.  Great!  My wonderful wedding day left me wondering what I had done to screw the heck out of everything.  Why the heck did my wedding day, my special day, something I'd planned carefully and thoroughly, gone so horribly wrong?

Another question: why have I had two miscarriages?  Damn it.  Why!  Am I going to be that horrible of a mother?  Do I not have that kind of love ability in me?  Would I do to them what my dad did to me?  I've lost two children of my own flesh and blood.  Most of the time I'm ok.  Sometimes I'm unsteady, wobbling between ok and not ok.  Other times I just want to lose it because it hurts so bad, so deeply.  My children!  I miss my babies.  My first would have been about two months old now.  My second would have been a Valentine's Day baby.  Why can't I have my children?  So many of my friends are getting married and having kids.  But I've been married for over a year, and all I have to show is the pain I feel and the tissues in the trash from all my tears.  I try not to say much about them unless it's part of an informative conversation simply because I don't want people to feel bad for me.  I don't want their pity.  But those of us who say little hurt as much as those who say more and vise versa.  Shame on those who say otherwise.  They do not know of that which they speak.  I miss my babies.  I love you both, my little ones.  And I have only a cat with her babies to comfort me.  I nearly crumpled in the store when my husband called to tell me not to worry about getting the kitten milk I was dashing for.  One of my kitten babies was gone.  I'm still not entirely sure how I managed to stop crying or anything else I did before I got home.  I was so numb when I finally stopped crying.