That's what my husband said on his blog, when he broke the news that what he had posted Monday - the picture of us holding the sign announcing our baby's expected arrival date - was actually not true, and he's very sorry, but he needs to take it back.
It comes from a former roommate of his. Joe was moving in with his fiance, into a house they'd just bought. He was packing up his stuff; it fit into about 2 dozen boxes of various sizes. The only place to put them as they filled was one tiny corner of the kitchen. He referred to the growing stack as his version of 3D Tetris. Of course, once all the boxes were packed and he was getting ready to close on the house, a question arose about a supposed late charge on a credit card Joe hadn't used in years. In order to dispute the charge and have it removed from his credit report, so they could in fact get the rate they were supposed to have and close on time, Joe had to find the card - which had been packed early on and was now in one of the boxes stacked underneath all the others. His comment as he undid all his hard work - "Playing 3D Tetris was really hard. Unplaying Tetris is harder."
That's what the past couple of days have been. Unplaying tetris. Untelling all the good news; taking back all the happiness and hope of the last 6 weeks and making it sadness and grief. Undoing all the dreams we had for the future. Readjusting to not being pregnant. Readjusting to the thought of having to try again, wondering if we will ever have a baby. I'm not sure I can ever voluntarily put myself in a position to do this ever again. Realizing that every thing I've gone through in the last 6 weeks - every scare, every worry, every wave of nausea, each food aversion, all the hours lost to sleep, to fatigue - all for nothing. For a dead baby that is still inside me, for a body that doesn't understand that even though there was every symptom under the sun - severely felt, at that - the baby isn't there and will never be there. Waiting, hoping things happen on their own, having to call and possibly beg for drugs to induce severe cramping and bleeding in hopes of letting this go without surgery, nothing in the immediate future but pain and sadness.
This is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The two people I love most in the world have both tried to kill themselves. Living through that, and the aftermath of that - those were the worst things that I ever lived through. Hours of uncertainty and hell and months of issues and counseling and things to live through. This is still harder. This is the worst thing I've ever been through.
Unplaying tetris is hard.