As I was reading to DH yesterday about what happens at this stage of development, complete with my usual caveat of 'if all is going well in there', it hit me.
Chickadee's loss wasn't my fault. It wasn't my body's fault.
It was something wrong with Chickadee.
My body did everything it could to make the pregnancy work and give it every chance. That's why I was so ill, why I had so many pregnancy symptoms. My body was pregnant. I was pregnant.
Chickadee stopped growing. Something in the inner layers that should have grown into a neural tube and a heart and organs and everything else? Didn't work. I dunno why, I never will.
But it wasn't me. And the odds are . . . it won't be this little chickie inside me. The odds are good the further we get that it's doing ok in there. For the most part - when sperm and egg meet, they blend and the chain of events is set in motion and it goes and goes. There is no reason to think that it's not going as it does for most other pregnancies in the world.
It should have been obvious before now. But it wasn't. Now I can see it. I still can't guarantee that things are doing what they should in there, but I know once again that my body is doing what it should be and I am being the best incubator I can be.