There is only so much a family should have to handle in one week, don't you think? For ours it was the crazy emotional high of a BFP (big fat positive - as in pregnant) followed five days later by the gut-wrenching low of a miscarriage.
I woke up Wednesday morning, saw blood, and that was that. Sobbing, I went looking for Brian, who was covered in sweat on our back patio, having just come home from his early-morning run. We were reeling for one day, but the hard part was the second day, when it seemed as if I was supposed to be done with the whole thing - except that I wasn't done. I was a wreck. I was angry. I was sad.
Today? I am really doing so much better. A pregnancy loss is incredibly painful, but I do think it's much easier at five weeks than it would be at even six or eight weeks. I'm grateful for that and I'm ready to move on and try again.
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