slipping

I have two healthy, happy, beautiful children. I have had two textbook pregnancies. I have a husband who brings fairy tales to life. I have a great family and amazing friends. But my heart is aching as the echo of my empty womb pierces my body.

I am trying to focus on here and now and what I have, but I am panicky...my child is gone.

I want to accept this, I want to acknowledge it is not my fault. But the questions in my mind are drowning me. People say I didn't "cause" it, but encourage the power of positive thinking. I can't help but wonder if they think my worrisome nature killed my child. How can I acknowledge the power of God and not secretly hope for a miracle?

Please do not misinterpret that...I know our baby is gone. But I cannot bear the thought of trying again. At the same time I cannot fathom never holding a child to my chest and feeling the euphoria that only comes from smelling your newborns scent. My miracle would be to conceive again without the pressure of "trying".

They gave me lortab as I wait for my body to do what it knows to do. I pray my body works this time. I can't take the medicine. I am trying to enjoy what I have. I can't sleep away days when my children are here. Perhaps next weekend. I am trying to acknowledge the pain and embrace it. I want to learn this lesson in hopes I will not have to endure a refresher course. Even that seems to be part of a big joke because I sat in Amelia's room last night playing house in an attempt to appreciate what I have, she handed me her "brother". I held the doll as the room spun and the darkness enveloped me

I try to be grateful as I think about those who have endured "worse". But that wasn't me. All I can think about is that I hurt in ways I prayed I would never experience. Once again my prayers feel rejected.

If you pray...please pray for me. For what, I have no idea.