My last post was full of hope. It was about the new year. It was full of happy thoughts. I wrote this:
I plan on continuing to eat healthy, exercise regularly, spend wisely, decrease debt, increase savings and do things that make me happy and build my happy family.
I want to take more pictures, learn to use my new photo editing software, continue reading great books and clean that basement.
I want my walls to have framed photos on them-not just in my computer.
Above all-I want 2011 to be a wonderfully happy and memorable year.
In less than a week my happy little world collapsed. The cause of my happiness was simple. You see, after years of infertility-of no hope of getting pregnant-somehow, someway-I was.
I was 11 weeks pregnant when I wrote my new years post. We had seen the baby. We had seen the heartbeating. I was feeling some symptoms and getting a little belly. We were happy and excited and in awe of our miracle.
I was waiting for my 12 week appointment and ultrasound so I could share the joy bursting in my heart. I had multiple posts already written and ready. The joy. The thrill of tearing down of walls built by years of childlessness NOT by choice.
It wasn't meant to be. Just 2 days before my week 12 appointment, I had a miscarriage.
My world is raw and painful now. My hope and happiness gone.