I figured out why I have been so depressed and emotional. I took a pregnancy test this morning and it came back positive. Very faintly, but still positive, which I was excited about since my tubes are tied. I was planning on how to tell Spike and names and where to put all the new baby stuff. I was trying not to get my hopes up since I have had one false positive before, however it didn't work. I was hopeful and happy. This is something we have been hoping for for a while now. I saw the little plus sign and the cloud was lifted from over my head.
A couple of hours later, my miscarriage started.
Pain, contractions, bleeding, crying, confusion, sorrow, grief. So many things. Staring down into the blood and wondering with each little clot: 'Was that my baby?' Would my baby have been a girl? A boy? Another child for us to love and adore. A tiny life that wasn't given a chance for some reason. I don't understand. I have had, including this one, two miscarriages. Both with men I love/d. Two children with complete assholes, but get me a real man that I love and who loves me and my children like his own and we get nothing. Either the gods are cruel and awful, or there really aren't any.
I finally got the words out to tell Spike. He didn't quite get what I was saying but he knew what it was. He held me and promised me it would be okay. He told me he still loves me and he will be there for me no matter what. Sweet, but it isn't helping the feelings.
So, with each painful trip to the bathroom the same hideous question: Was that my baby?
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