Sometimes life sucks

So really, I am the worst blogger in the world. I rarely feel like I actually have something to say, and then when I have something inside me that I really want to express, I don't really want it plastered on the internet. So maybe I will chronicle my life, but not really my thoughts and feelings at this point. At least not all of them.

I lost my baby this past Wednesday. We've known for a couple of weeks that something was off, but with three ultrasounds to reassure us, as well as 3 doctors saying that the baby was just fine, the bleeding was normal, and that the smart money would be on a a healthy baby, we felt lulled into a semi-safe feeling. Until Tuesday, when even though what I was experiencing wasn't new, but once again I just felt like it probably wasn't right. Wednesday I went for another ultrasound, and I heard probably the worst sentence in my life. "Here is your baby, and the crown to rump shows about 9 weeks, but unfortunately there isn't a heartbeat." I already knew there wasn't a heart beat. I watched the tech search for it up and down and up and down for probably 3 minutes. 3 minutes where I hoped I was the stupidest person in the world and just couldn't see what everyone else would see. 3 minutes where I knew that as soon as someone spoke, my life would never be the same. 3 minutes where everything I might possibly have done wrong flashed through my mind. 3 minutes where I wanted time to just freeze. But time never freezes when we want it to, and unfortunately this was the time when I wanted it to more than any other time.

Flash forward a few days, and I'm still crying fairly frequently. Friends and family know what has happened. Flowers and casseroles are everywhere in my apartment. I keep putting my hand on my stomach, and then I catch myself and realize that all that is there is the cinnamon roll I ate. But I'm okay. My baby is gone, but somehow I know I'm going to be okay. Maybe it is my faith. Maybe it is my wonderful husband. Maybe it is because I'm just a strong person. Maybe it is just a fluke of nature. But I'm going to be okay. My baby is gone, and I miss her pretty much every second, but I'm going to be okay.