Sunday, June 3, 2018

Don't know how to process.


I can't imagine that this is healthy. I feel like I am in a dream. I am relying on a few things that I believe are reality, but I worry that as time keeps ticking by, even those glimmers of realness may slip.
If I were to show those 3 previous sentences to a psychiatrist would he deem me crazy?

Here are the things that I am holding on to as hard facts of reality.

I had two pregnancy tests that showed positive. 
I took a picture of them. Sent it to Cody. 

I waited the 10 weeks.
I saw the ultrasound, a tiny little bundle, a heartbeat. A Heartbeat. A Heartbeat. I saw it. 
The measurement was 6 weeks.
Not right. It should be bigger.
 Not possible. Cody left 8 weeks ago.
 Not growing. 
I am a numbers nerd remember. 
All I could imagine was our baby puppies. 
Slow heartbeat meant nothing we did, would change the outcome.   

Again, am I crazy.

The words, 'I'm sorry'

But still I made them do more tests. Additional ultrasounds. Prove to me my baby is dead.
I had to go into that hospital without cody. The whole experience. From sending the pictures of positive tests, to walking into the hospital for them to remove the remains of my baby. Alone. 

I am about to shatter the glass. I may not be ready. 

I don't understand the why behind this. I. We. felt like we were suppose to have another baby. A girl. Emma Rain. She came quick, and left quick. 
I don't want to do that again. But my baby for christmas. My soft baby girl. My baby. 
Why was I asked to something so hard on my mental and physical and emotional and then,   not. 
But worse.

The dr kept emphasizing that it was nothing I did. How does he know? How does he know. Was it the diet soda? Was it the tylenol for my back. Was it merely because Im 42. 

Yes, I don't know how to process this and I think the longer it goes, the more it's eating me, I look at my beautiful kids and think, where is my 6th beautiful baby. 
I don't understand miscarriage. 
I don't understand this in the eternal perspective.
I want to say, I want so much to believe that all she needed was a heartbeat. That all this exceptional Spirit needed was a heartbeat, and that she will always be my guardian angel, and my beautiful daughter on the other side of the vail. Yes. I want to believe this. 

And is this hormonal chaos because of the physical hormones, or mental. Can you have postpartum from a miscarriage? 
My heart hurts that I feel like this is a dream. That I don't understand this reality. That I don't know how to process this.

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