I'm so sad right now.
I want my baby back. I want to feel my baby growing inside me and I want to feel my baby kick me and poke me and jump on my bladder. My arms ache to hold the baby that will never be.
I want to watch my baby grow up into a little boy or little girl and into a teenager and an adult; I don't want to wonder if there is a God or not and what has happened to my baby that isn't any more.
I just go back to holding the blue elephant we bought for Chickadee, and crying. I thought I was done crying, but I guess I'm not. I am overwhelmed with grief for my poor baby right now.
I should be celebrating being 10 weeks right now, celebrating the fact that miscarriage risks dropped again. I should be looking at the new picture of what the baby looks like and comparing the sizes between babycenter and thebump. I should be sitting with DH, reading aloud to him about what development has just occurred and what is going to happen during this week. I should be feeling my uterus, not suffering through even more cramps, wondering whether or not all the tissue is gone, watching the variation in bleeding and wondering what it means. I should be watching my ticker change over, not debating whether or not we will use our names after all.
So angry. So sad. I don't feel like I can continue under these circumstances of shifting sand beneath my feet. I need some stable footing somewhere.