I’ve been doing a bit of catch-up on blog reading (at the rate I’m going, I should be all caught up in about seven years…assuming no one updates in the meantime), and I noticed one of those question-and-answer prompts being used on a lot of sites. The questions were all about the previous year in an attempt to help the blogger remember key moments and be reflective and such. And I thought it would be fun to do as I start my eleventh year of blogging. I still really enjoy looking back at posts from five, six, nine years ago and remembering the events I wrote about.

I started answering the questions…and damn, two thousand twelve was kind of a shitty year. OK not kind of. It’s probably not a stretch to say it was the second-worst year of my life. I mean, look at some of my answers:

What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?
Be under general anesthesia for a D&C.

Did anyone close to you die?
Oh, just one of my best friends.

What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory and why?
The day I found out I’d miscarried. The day Jackie died. The day I found out my aunt had cancer again.

Can you imagine how depressing my answers would have been if I’d been in a bad mood?

Obviously there were good things in 2012. I found out I was pregnant again, and that the baby is a boy. We all celebrated more birthdays. I came within ten pounds of my goal weight (Hyperemesis silver linings! I kid, I kid.) I had some great trips with greater friends. My husband and daughter made me indescribably happy.

Even though I’ve strived to remain positive and upbeat during this pregnancy, it hasn’t been easy. When I have a day where I throw up twenty times before noon, I just want to curl up and quit.  I used to be an intensely positive person – not just a glass is half-full-type, but the glass is full-full! With water! And air! And POSSIBILITY! And while life has beat that out of me a little bit, I do still naturally lean toward the positive.

But just because I’m inclined to look at the bright side doesn’t mean I should feel obligated to. Yet, I do it all the time – just two paragraphs above, for instance. Maybe that’s because I don’t ever want to appear ungrateful, or because I’ve always been told someone else has it worse (I always secretly want to slap someone who throws around perspective, and then say, “but just think, I could have punched you in the nose!”). But you know, sometimes things are just crappy, and there is no bright side. And I have officially given myself permission to not feel compelled to find one.

So sometimes on the days when I throw up twenty times before noon, I will get back in bed and not say, “but I’m just happy to be pregnant!” And I will not feel guilty that the first three dates that popped into my mind from 2012 were bad, instead of the day I got a positive pregnancy test. Besides, I feel like this baby boy belongs to 2013, and that’s where I want to be.

So good riddance, 2012. You sucked.