No, I'm not pregnant...I'm just fat. Thanks.

For those of you who don't follow me on facebook, I need to share something with you. Last night at church, someone rubbed my belly and said 'looks like you have another one on the way.'.

Sometimes I feel like the whole world is against me. All of yesterday was a disaster. I was tired and cranky and Asher was testing me. And because I have a living son, I feel as if I should walk in joy every second of every day because so many of my friends don't have living, breathing children to hold and laugh with and love. So when I get angry or frustrated with my child I feel like a failure. As if I don't deserve my child. As if, maybe, that's why two of my other children were taken away...these thoughts haunts me.

So yesterday was hard. All day long, applesauce was falling out of the refrigerator and exploding all over me and the floor...Asher was throwing his food all over and not listening and beating on the walls and piano with anything he could find, I wasn't feeling well physically or emotionally...anything that could go wrong, seemed to.

I was also feeling really bad about my appearance. I still haven't lost any weight since losing Selah. Nothing. I haven't eaten any refined sugar in 3 weeks now...and nothing. I eat healthy and get a fair amount of exercise in..and nothing. Not one pound has been lost. My tummy is flabby and bulbous. I try to hid it but I can't. Nothing fits. I hate wearing pregnancy pants because it reminds me of what I've lost...I can't fit into my pre-pregnancy pants and my in-between pants don't look good. I refuse to buy new because I'm determined to lose the weight, but for some reason, it just won't come off. My shirts are all too tight and the ones that fit, show off my all too round belly. I hate it. I'm fed up. I feel like crap. My all-too low self esteem has plummeted to an all-time low. Just another slap in the face.

Last night I kept trying things on. One outfit after another...anything to make me look O.K.. It was excruciating. It was like trying on swimsuits...completely awful. I found something I thought looked alright, came downstairs and was covered in applesauce that fell out of the refrigerator and exploded on the floor...so back up I went to find something else to wear.

So having my empty, flabby belly rubbed and being told I looked pregnant, was definitely not the best thing to hear last night. I was humiliated and hurt, not to mention pissed at the fact that I had to relive the story of losing Selah.

As if losing a child isn't hard enough...but you have all the secondary trials and tribulations. You're fat and can't lose the weight; either your milk comes in when you don't want it to, or it doesn't when you do; you have a ton of support in the beginning, but then things fizzle out...people don't remember your due date or subsequent birthdays...they ask you when your due or 'if you ever want to know what it's like to have two kids...'; People either constant apologize for thinking they've said something wrong or are oblivious and continually say the wrong things; your anger is at an all time high and your patience at an all time low; every thing is a struggle...every thing.

I guess the past few days have just been 'one of those days'. The kind of day that smacks you in the face as a handle would if you stepped on the shovel end. Smack. Minding your own business, enjoying your life as much as you can and out of nowhere...smack. I know these days are out there, but they always seem to come out of the blue. I know my stress bucket is full and any little addition will send it spilling over the edge...but it still catches me off guard. I guess it doesn't help that another friend delivered twins yesterday. Babies surround me. Memories haunt me.

Today Asher wouldn't eat his lunch. Even though it was all things he liked...pasta, hot dogs and BBQ sauce, strawberries, chips, figs. He kept throwing things off his tray and watching them hit the floor or wall. So I cleaned the floor, then the wall...then the floor. I told him if he dropped one more thing, lunch was over. Let's just say lunch was over pretty quickly...so I took him out of the chair and he started wailing. My anger was brewing and Steve was gone. I knew it was going to get bad and I didn't know how to stop it. He kept trying to get back into his chair, so I put it outside. He stood at the door and cried for five minutes. I just sat there, trying to cool my anger. I finally sat down with a granola bar..again, one of his favorites...and asked him to come over. He wouldn't leave the door, so I took him by the hand, gave him a hug and offered him the granola bar. He smacked me in the face.

I lost it. Lost it.

I yelled, grabbed him and carried him upstairs to his timeout...put him in the room and slammed the door. Hard. My blood was boiling. I wanted to hit him back. I wanted to teach him how much it hurts to be smacked on the face. I wanted to teach him a lesson. I was losing it.

I went into my room and screamed. I screamed so long and hard that all my neighbors probably heard me. I felt like an idiot. I felt like a little girl who couldn't control her anger. But I had to get it out. I was so angry. I waited a minuted or two. I sat on my bed and breathed deep...in....and out...I cursed God...and then regretted it. I felt my anger retreating and I felt bad for grabbing Asher so hard and slamming the door so loud. I felt bad for scaring him when I yelled. I went back in and saw his red, tear stained face from all the crying and I picked him up. He clung to me. We sat and talked and I told him that I loved him. I felt horrible. I scared him. He could sense my anger and it scared him. I feel like the shittiest mom in the world.

Why are some days so hard? Why is life so hard? Can I get a reprieve anytime soon? Do I sound like a spoiled little brat for even saying that since I already have been blessed with such an amazing husband and son. Shouldn't I be grateful for that and stop complaining...shouldn't that be enough...shouldn't I be able to get on with my life?

Most days are O.K.. I laugh and smile and Asher and I enjoy our days...but then I have days where all I see is black. It surrounds me and sucks me in. And it seems as if the entire day or days are filled with one giant hurt after another. Today I hurt. I feel fat and empty at the same time. I feel anger and love, regret and sorrow. Today, I wish I could place my white surrender flag on my front porch...or maybe paint it across my face, so people know to tread lightly.