Crawling Out

I crashed hard. A thousand little heartaches piled up, one on top of another, until I crumpled under the strain.

It gets harder as time goes on. I know a couple girls who are due the week I was. I'm thrilled for them and happily read their blogs, eager for more news on their growing bellies. It's still a reminder of what I lost, though. I would have been in maternity pants, by now. I would have been feeling little popcorn kicks and hiccups for a couple weeks, already. I would have been gearing up for my 20-week ultrasound. It bothers me that I don't even know if we'd have wanted to find out what we were having. We never got far enough to discuss it. The others are moving on, each new development a beautiful discovery, and I'm right were I was, empty and unchanging. Like a fly trapped in amber I feel lost in time, forever stuck just as I am now with no means of escape. Worst of all, I'm not sure that it's time to break free, yet. I want to climb back up on that horse, show it who's boss and that I control my life, but mine is not the only life that will be affected. As much as I hate it, I have to wait.

Still, I'm grateful for friends and a husband who will literally lift me up and get me going when I'm down. I don't know what I would do without you.