Un-telling

I warned myself and Al that the trouble with telling everyone we were pregnant is that there is a risk we'll have to "untell" them if something goes wrong. Well, something went wrong. Today I went in for what was supposed to be a routine ultrasound with my ob, and we saw the sweet little baby in there, but no heartbeat. I knew right away it was over. Unfortunately, I had to sit around in agony and sadness having various bloodtests and another confirmation ultrasound before a final consult with the doctor -- and two-and-a-half hours after my initial appt time, I was finally back in the elevator to go home. And I still will have to make some decisions on how to get my body to realize the baby is not alive.

The things I don't need to hear right now are that "it wasn't meant to be" or that it was most likely "nature's way of taking care of a severe abnormality" or that "you can try again" or finally "doesn't it make you want to go home and realize how amazing your kids are and how lucky you are to have them" Believe me, I don't need a miscarriage to grasp what a miracle Paige and Graham are. Excuse me for the pity party, but I think all I need right now is to grieve the loss of this little tiny wonder, who had arms and legs and a head with a face and a heart and already had my love.

So if anyone is wondering what they can say to me or is appalled at how bitter I sound, please just offer love and compassion and a little less judgement the next time you meet or hear of someone who had "help" to conceive. That is all I ask.