Finally we had good news this week.

I have dusted off and started reading again a dear old friend, a book, called, "Gone Too Soon". I also attended BYU Women's Conference recently. I chose to attend some classes that dealt with topics such as grief, mourning, and trials. There is one thought that keeps ringing out from the book I am reading. The thought in the book was that we should write down our feelings as we work through the grief we experience when we lose a child. We should journal those thoughts openly and honestly, but not be noble. I thought that was key to be honest, but not noble. Of course there are lessons to be learned, miracles to be found, and the silver lining to be seen. While those things are true, if you can't be honest with yourself, then how can you ever really move on?

It's a rainy day today. I love rain, thunder, and lightning. Today that dark sky matched my mood. The rain matched my tears. I felt as if Heaven was weeping with me. I didn't want to get out of bed. I wanted to stay snuggled beneath my comforter. I got up and went through the motions. I made breakfast, fixed hair, signed school papers and got my children off to school. I faked my smile. I faked that happy mommy tone. I assured my kids that today was going to be a great day, even though I didn't believe it would be.

I feel like I have had some better days. I have had days that I haven't cried. I will count that as a win. I have had days that I have laughed so hard I snorted. I have had days where some amount of time passes and I feel like my old self.

However.... certain things make me feel like I have been punched in the stomach and have had the wind knocked right out of me. When people make stupid and insensitive comments... that's the worst. These are some of my "favorites" and I promise they have all actually been said to me:

1. You know you already have 5 kids right? 
2. Do you feel guilty? You didn't seem excited about your pregnancy because I never saw you post about it on Facebook.
3. There was probably something really wrong with your baby. You guys already have a lot of medical issues. Just think of all the appointments to Primary Children's Hospital you have saved yourself.
4. You seem sad. Should you be on some type of medication to fix that?
5. At least you have more kids waiting for you in the next life, I don't.

When a friend told me that she is trying to get pregnant I felt as if I had been totally deflated, like when air from a balloon departs in one big gush. It's not that I'm not excited for her, I am. But I think to myself that was me and it didn't work out. I am jealous that this other person is not jaded because nothing has ever gone wrong with trying to conceive, ability to maintain a pregnancy, and her kids are all perfectly healthy. I crave that innocence. I wish I was none the wiser and believed that what I want will happen when I want it to happen.

When I see several neighborhood ladies walking around with thir cute little bellies, I think that should be me. I would have been halfway through my pregnancy now. Halfway to holding my precious baby. As these pregnant women complain about being sick, tired, uncomfortable, or that this is a trial for them because it was a "surprise" pregnancy, I get irritated. I think, do you even know how lucky you are? Do you know there are thousands of women praying for your "trial"? I think that if your biggest challenge to date is a surprise pregnancy at 40, then may everyone in the world be so fortunate.

I still have hCG almost 6 weeks after my D&C. Without getting into all of the details, the bottom line is that my body still thinks it is pregnant. I have been pregnant all year whether with child or hormonally speaking, all year with nothing to show for it. Nothing. My belly had started to round and pop out. Well I guess it still looks that way because someone told me last week that I have a "pregnant belly". Yes, I do and thanks for pointing that out, as if I wasn't already painfully aware of that. Bills have come in for doctor visits, ultrasounds, lab work, and ultimately a surgery that delivered my baby. I am paying for a baby that I never even held. It makes my heart ache.

My arms ache to hold a baby. The other night I woke up in a cold sweat when I swear I heard a baby crying, only to find that obviously there was no baby. We went out to dinner as a family last night. We sat down at a table with 7 chairs and I was telling my husband that we needed 1 more chair so we could all fit around the table. He looked so confused, but I was adamant. And then to my horror I realized I was counting for a family of 8 because I still feel like we have 6 kids. In the deepest level of my subconscious I am still looking for that missing child. As we strolled through a Tulip Festival I saw two ducks walking with their 6 ducklings. I suppose you notice what you want to, but 6 is the number I see everywhere around me.

I don't know what to do going forward. My maternity clothes are packed up and the baby stuff is put away. Do I get rid of it all? I sometimes want to string up the infant car seat and whack it like a pinata. Sadness is real with grief, but so is anger.  When does it get easier? When will my body get the message that there is no baby and get rid of this pregnancy hormone? When will I stop thinking that I have 6 kids when I only have 5?