We moved house, then I got sick, then I got better, then there just seemed to be an endless stream of really important things I never had the time to do, then we had to start preparing for our trip to South Africa, then we had to actually GO to South Africa, then we had to come back and deal with the aftermath of being gone for a fortnight and then we found out I was pregnant with a planned and much-wanted baby.
Now I'm sitting here going through my 2nd miscarriage in 11 months.
I have been a shit blogger and a shit friend recently, but I have felt *so* overwhelmed by everything. There are all these demands on my time and not enough of me or my time to meet them. I'm having worse partial dislocations and the 'normal' partials are happening more often. My mood is generally much improved but physically I'm beat up. I've been trying to be good to myself and part of that was stepping away from blogging, because I was getting so emotionally invested in what was happening that I was coming away drained. I don't think that's healthy but at the same time, it upsets me that there are people out there I care for who I haven't even 'seen' for months because I'm too weak to cope with reading about their lives. It's pathetic.
Right now we're doing a lot of thinking about the possibility of my hypermobility being connected with my inability to stay pregnant. The more I read up about chemical pregnancies/early miscarriages, the more I think that I've had more of these than I realised. There's definitely been one more, possibly more but a mix of bad memory and incredibly irregular periods makes this difficult to track. If your period isn't due, how do you know it's late? You can't. But I can know if it's suddenly much much heavier than normal, or much more painful, which has happened a few times.
It was my 23rd birthday yesterday, I dragged Mr Arienette to a theme park and we rode rollercoasters. I smiled so much my face ached. Life is ups and downs.