The space between anger and compassion and just walking away . . .

I wish I could express all the stuff that I would like to be able to say, but I fear I shall not manage to.
My head is actually spinning (well, not actually, but it feels like it is inside at least).

Where to start?

When we talked to KT yesterday I was full of compassion, genuine, heartfelt sorrow for a fellow human woman who is unable to sort her life, to even the smallest extent. She has 3 children, all different fathers. All are being looked after, by family members, or by the state. She has been in hospital, with 'significant injuries' inflicted by the father of one of her children. She has spent time in prison for drug-related crime (stealing, presumably) where she apparently does well, as there is a structure and there are rules. She has been so UNLUCKY. A disorganised, unloving home which left her with a chasm where the love of a mother should be. Presumably male role-models who were violent, leaving her to chose similar types herself. A lack of any type of self-worth to prevent her from falling into the destruction of the addiction that has taken choices and value out of her life. And is now taking her children. Honestly, it breaks my heart.

On the other hand R and I are so well off. I have a home, a good, interesting job, a lovely relationship, I have friends, family, food, car - actually I have everything I need - and much more. I have no children, through some odd twist of fate, but because I am who I am there is a good chance I can even sort that out, and bring up children that the state considers better off in my care than in their own birth-family's. I am LUCKY.

That was the starting position, but before you label me Mother Theresa, let me tell you about how angry I am too.

This little baby was born add*cted to h*roin for god's sake! WHAT SORT OF A HUMAN BEING TAKES H*ROIN WHEN THEY ARE F****** PREGNANT! There is one rule about what you do with your own life, but there must surely be another when it comes to your own unborn child's life.

I worked it out. My sixth miscarriage (relatively well documented if you happened to want to read about the misery) happened in June 2006 - if that 'baby' that obviously never was had not become another of my miscarriages, it would have been born at roughly the same time as this add*cted baby was born. Where is the justice? I tried EVERYTHING I knew - I'd been to Harley Street, I was injecting heparin, taking steroids, progesterone pessaries, baby aspirin, I was desperate, DESPERATE to make my baby live. But as we know of course, it didn't. Meanwhile some b*tch out there shot up another potentially deadly fix, in spite of her unborn BABY! Even after the poor little mite was born, she went stealing to fund the drugs, drugs were top priority, even though it meant she would lose the right to keep the baby; sure enough, she went back into prison. Her baby taken into the care of the state - never mind the other two children.

There is no justice, I understand that. There is no baby because you did right, because you deserved it. Don't ever think that you had that baby because it was your right, your just reward for being so damn good. I can be good - I can assure you it doesn't work.

And now? Do I plan to be the good person who tries to put this unfortunate baby's life back on track? In spite of all the possible physical, drug-induced problems?

I don't know, I don't know yet.

There is so much more I could say, but it's for another day.