And so it goes...

How can I ever get through this?

I have asked myself that question a thousand times over the past week. You see, after all my moaning and groaning, wishing and waiting, I found out I was pregnant. It was incredible. I felt shocked, unprepared, and unapologetically happy. I saw myself in nine months, holding a little baby, growing fat with pregnancy, and yelling at Jeff to get me ice chips while bringing that life into the world.

Yet, a week ago, that dream died. Literally. Anyone who says life begins at birth has never been pregnant. All of a sudden, you're walking around and carrying the best secret of your life. And then, as it was for me, that secret leaves you and you never know why.

I have my theories, of course. I place blame everywhere I can. It just makes the pain more raw - more intense - when you look back, wishing you could have done something different. And now, I'm left picking up the pieces of a dream and trying to remember who I was before. And the thing is - I can't remember. I don't know where she is, what she's doing, or why she left.

It's not like I'm a stranger to heartache. I visited my friend, Tia, yesterday. She lives out by where I grew up. As I left her house, I started driving through my old neighborhood, driving past places that all hold memories for me. I remembered my first heartbreak. I was seventeen years old. I thought I would never be able to get through that. I remember crying into my pillow every night for weeks, wishing I could go back, change something, do something different, try to get him to change his mind. But that didn't happen. And, truthfully, I know I'm a stronger person now because of that. And that's what this feels like.

It's funny, in a macabre sort of way, to think that this event will literally change who I am. Forever. I don't really tend to think of life's moments in that sense. I suppose meeting my husband, my engagement, and my marriage have all changed me. Going to law school radically altered who I was. But, those were happy changes - and ones I was happy to make. This feels like a part of me has irrevocably broken and a sadness I'll have to carry around with my for the rest of my life.

I know that things will get easier. Like that first break-up, I'll eventually stop thinking about him and move on. But I'll be different. And so, right now, I mourn. I mourn the baby I never had a chance to meet. I mourn who I was before this happened.

People keep telling me that I should be happy I got pregnant at all - that at least one hurdle has been overcome. That I'll eventually get pregnant and have another baby. That's like pouring salt into an open wound. That doesn't matter to me. Another baby will still not be this baby. And I wanted this one so much. I see sadness around every corner and I hear it in every song. It's like the world is out to constantly remind me that I'm grieving and to show me what I'm missing.

It helps to write. It helps to talk. I'm so scared of being alone right now because I'll have to cope with my own thoughts and emotions. It's easier, right now, to let someone else do that for me. I'm trying to stay busy. I'm trying to put my best foot forward, and look towards the day that I wake up and this isn't the first thing that I think about. Right now, I'm just hoping for another miracle.