I want to throw my shoes at every happy mother-and-child that I see. Is this strange? I would throw anything, really, but I always fantasize about my shoes. Perhaps because there would be no mess to clean up after I throw them.
It's been about two months since my second miscarriage. Time is helping to heal the wounds, I'm feeling better but I'm not close to being healed. I miss feeling happy. I am afraid that I am missing a great opportunity to find meaning from this mourning. People refer to digging themselves out of a whole, but I'm not in a whole where I can see the sunlight and know which direction to dig. Right now, I feel like I'm in a series of underground tunnels and I don't know where I'm going or how to decide which turns to take.