Pretty Fucking Far From Okay

Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction where Butch rescues Marsellus? Upon Butch asking him if he's ok, Marsellus responds, "Naw man. I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay." That line keeps running through my head every time someone asks me how I'm doing. I have come a long way over the past few weeks, but some days are still harder than others. This story is going to be long, so I hope you have some time on your hands.

On March 25^th, I lost my dad. It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. He was admitted to the hospital that Monday (the 24th) due to low blood pressure and low Oxygen levels. They were supposed to make him feel better and send him home. No one in my family expected my dad to pass away when he did, that is why I was still in TX and not in NC when it happened. Instead of making him feel better, one of the nurses accidentally overdosed him on pain meds. He didn’t come back from it. Ben called me at work that day to tell me we needed to fly to NC asap. I left work in tears, but expected to be able to see my dad when we arrived in Fayetteville. I knew he wouldn’t be in the best shape, but I expected to be able to go see him, hold his hand, and talk to him at the hospital. That wasn’t in the cards. When my sister picked us up from the airport, she had to break the news to me that our dad didn’t make it. Only those of you who have lost a parent, know what that feels like. It sucks. At that time I was 17 weeks pregnant. We hadn’t even found out the sex of the baby yet. As I tried to process everything, I told Ben that maybe it was the right time for him to go. Had my dad passed away any later in the year, I wouldn’t have been able to travel home due to the pregnancy.

Through all of this, I was able to use the baby to help me find hope during my grief. Two weeks after my dad died, Ben and I found out that we were having a boy. We were ecstatic. The same day as the ultrasound, we got a call from the doc and found out that there might be some problems with the baby. Nothing was certain at the time, so we figured it was a fluke and carried on with our planning.

**The rest of this is going to be quite vague because I really don’t think it’s anyone else’s business what exactly went wrong.**

Let's just say that I went to the doctor A LOT over the course of the following few weeks. With each appointment came more heartbreak and trying to hold things together. At 23 weeks, I delivered my silent baby boy. I was induced, I went through labor, and I had a natural delivery. I am now a mother, but have no baby to show for it. Just when I thought that everything was over, I could start to move on, my milk came in. Another big FUCK YOU from the powers that be. My body is back to normal now. My boobs have shrunk back to tiny and I've stopped bleeding. My doctor cleared me to finally start exercising, which is good, since I have baby weight to lose. It's funny how fast your body can physically heal. Emotionally, it's another story.

Losing a parent is hard, losing a baby is even harder. Having both happen within a month of each other is a total mind fuck. I have gone through a ton of emotions, but the two I am hanging on to are lack of patience and anger. I'm not sure if it's lack of patience or no empathy. I find it really hard to give a shit about other people's insignificant problems. I'd give examples, but it would make me come off as a heartless human being and usually I'm quite sweet. Now, anger. To say that I am a pissed off is putting it mildly. You know how people always say that you're never given more than you can handle? Well, that is bullshit. I'm handling it, but that's my only option. I can either pick myself up and move on or just check out of reality. I've decided to pick myself up and move on.

I am lucky to have an amazing support group made up of friends and family, but more importantly, I am lucky to have Ben. Our bond has only been strengthened by the suckfest we have endured. I'm also thankful that my new job (started in February) has been so understanding and accommodating over the past two months. If it wasn't for all of these factors, I would most likely be in a darker place right now.

I haven't been very religious for some time. All of this sure hasn't helped matters. However, it does give me comfort to think that somewhere, my dad is hanging out with my son. I hope he's teaching him how to cuss and pee in the yard.