Better to Have Loved and Lost...

I decided today that this is a STUPID quote and whoever wrote it is an ass. This quote is obviously in reference to being in love. But for some reason it came to mind this morning. I have experienced a horrible week and a terrible loss.

For the 1.5 people that read my blog, I recently posted that I was surprised to find myself pregnant. While I was shocked, I was also excited, yet very nervous. Well last week I found myself no longer pregnant. After 11 weeks of pregnancy and having seen the heart beat of this child to be, there was no longer one there.

It hurt. I hurt. The actual miscarriage was very painful. The D and C afterward was even more painful. But mentally I felt okay. I said to myself that it wasn't meant to be. That this was God's way of telling me that this wasn't a healthy pregnancy. That we couldn't afford a baby anyway. I spent 3 days telling myself these "truths" which were really lies that I was telling myself so that I would feel better.

It took about 3 days for my mind to catch up with my body. All of the sudden I could not stop thinking about it and it seemed that every where I looked there were babies and pregnant women. On TV, at the mall, in the street. I even had a cousin call to tell me that his wife was expecting twins and they just found out the sex (a boy and a girl). I told him how happy I was for him (and I am) but on the inside I was screaming WHY ME???? WHY WHY WHY??? Why the fuck do I deserve this? I did not get an answer. I suppose because there is no answer. I just have to suck it up and move on.

I had not told many people. Ironically we were planning to tell people this week as I would have been starting the second trimester (at which point the risk of miscarriage is drastically reduced). I am really glad that we did not tell the kid. She wants to be a big sister. Actually she really wants a twin sister and I have tried to tell her that ship has sailed but she still has hope. She would have been heartbroken, and right now her little smile is the only thing I can hold on to.

The husband's reaction was surprising. He was upset, and tried to be comforting, but the bottom line is that he wants to try again - not that we were trying the first time. I don't know if I can. It's certainly too soon to try again, especially since the last words of the recovery room nurse were "nothing and no one goes in there for six weeks." For some reason when she said this I laughed hysterically - it was probably the anesthesia.

Yesterday I felt like I could move on. Today I am not so sure. Let's see what tomorrow brings and in the mean time I will try to sleep in the bed I made.