The Bad News

There's no good intro to this, so I'm just going to jump right in. I had a miscarriage over the weekend. Saturday evening I started bleeding pretty heavily, so we jumped in the car and went to the hospital. There, they did an ultrasound and determined that although there was an amniotic sac and some "stuff" in it, it was not developing into a baby.

The biggest consolation, for me, is that it was not caused by anything I did or didn't do. I can't beat myself up about it, which I would totally do. I'm sad, of course, and disappointed. I wanted a baby, dammit. The weirdest thing I feel is lonely. I feel like my body is a big house, with lots of rooms, and I'm all alone it in. And someone used to live there with me, but they moved out, suddenly, without even saying goodbye.

I'm back at work today, though I'll probably take tomorrow off to follow up at the doctor's office (I was supposed to do that yesterday, but they were closed due to snow). It's odd, but I feel like I'm thinking about it more here than I did at home. I guess without the kids to distract me, I have too much time to think. I'm mostly okay, with periods of melancholy. I'm glad it happened now, instead of later in the pregnancy. I HATE that I told so many people (not you guys, OBVS, but my whole freakin' office, oh my hell WHAT was I thinking), because it is so hard to keep telling people that it's over. I wish everyone already knew, because I don't really mind talking about the details, but somehow just saying, "I Had a Miscarriage" is a total beat-down.