It's funny how all I can generally think about is getting pregnant... and the minute I stopped thinking about it, it happened.... and then it was gone. I found out I was (had been) pregnant on the same day that I found out I was miscarrying. That is definitely going to be a day that will live in infamy in my life. I knew something was wrong (one does not bleed and hurt like that without something being wrong), but denial is a wonderful thing so I ignored my body for a couple of days before finally dragging myself into my OB's office to make sure I wasn't dying.
I can write lightly about this dear readers (if there are any dear readers) because I am still in shock... and probably some denial. It seems surreal to me to think that I was actually growing a little human inside of me, and now that little human is gone. I guess we weren't meant to meet.
My husband darling has been treating me as though I were made of glass, or some other delicate thing. I don't feel delicate. I don't feel anything (which worries him, I'm sure), except twisted relief at knowing that I am capable of getting pregnant. Now a whole new set of questions try to infiltrate my brain (can I stay pregnant?), but I try not to go there.
So life goes on. It's just me and the darling husband... but now we have a cat-baby (my consolation cat, I secretly call him), Butters. It's us three, and hopefully, a fourth will join us soon. I am positive that I will have my baby, and that baby will be wonderful and healthy and a perfect blend of the darling husband and I.... and for the first time since my baby pangs started, I am simply content to patiently wait for that baby.
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