Don't count your chickens.

I hesitated to write this. Because, well, this is a blog. And anyone is free to read it. But, that's why I have one, I guess. This is supposed to be sort of an online journal, I guess.

I am heartbroken. Figuratively and almost literally. On Saturday I lost the second baby in two months that I have carried. I am so pissed off at God right now. I know I probably shouldn't be. Or maybe I am pissed off at my body. Nobody can say the right thing. "Oh, it's for the best." Or, "Oh, it's your body's way of telling you something isn't right". I don't care about all that. None of it makes me feel any better. I honestly feel a gaping hole in the middle of my body. Two days ago I felt a fullness. I felt like throwing up. I was dizzy, had an aching chest. All of it because I was expecting a child, and now I'm not.

I feel bad for being so angry. I think about others who actually give birth to their children and then lose them. I won't pretend to know how that feels. But I'm sure it sucks. Worse than I ever want to know. So, when I am crying or want to punch something because of the way I feel, I feel a little crazy, too. Crazy because there are people who have it so much worse. People who have had 20 miscarraiges instead of two. People who have lost babies they have actually held in their arms.

I feel selfish. Robbed of the "perfect summer" I was supposed to have. All summer with my newborn baby. Now, the months are ticking away until it will be a new school year by the time I give birth.

I would say I am at the "anger" stage, wouldn't you? I hope the doctor can help me understand this and provide me with a way to keep this from happening again. I don't think I am strong enough for this.

I also feel so stupid. Stupid because I told a few close friends about this second pregnancy. Stupid because now I have to go back and tell them it's not to be. And stupid because now they have to pretend to know how I feel and pretend to know what to say to me. Now I know why people don't shout it out to the world when it happens to them. I always thought that was weird. I told everyone I knew that I was pregnant with Mason before the pee had even dried on the stick. I assumed that this time would be no different. Wow. I assumed way too much. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch" is my new motto...

Please keep me in your thoughts these next few months while we figure this mess out. Thank you!!