Kazzandra: Right Where I Am 2016: 3 months followed by now

I suffered the loss of my first pregnancy in March this year at 5 weeks 4 days. Slipped away almost before I knew what was happening. I'm currently awaiting surgical management for the loss of my second pregnancy at 7 weeks 3 days (I should now be 10 weeks). I found out at an early scan yesterday that my baby's heart stopped beating at around 7 weeks 3 days. What a sucker-punch that was. We were so excited because we'd seen the heartbeat at 6 weeks, and I was sure everything was ok this time.

I met my new nephew yesterday. And I couldn't bring myself to hold him. Just couldn't do it, because that would have undone me. I put a brave face on you see, to help celebrate my father-in-law's birthday. How could I hold someone else's baby when my own was lying dead in my belly? No. Too painful. I smiled said 'maybe later' and was tasked by my other SIL to help bath my nieces. Kind, sweet, funny. They distracted me for an hour or so. Then I went back downstairs, and as the children went to bed, I couldn't stand to sit there anymore. Alone. I needed to be alone. And I felt so damn tired, it was a struggle to drive the two miles home. I crawled into bed at 8pm, fell asleep them woke two hours later, staring out of the window from the sofa. Finally went back to bed and slept from 3-6am.

Today I had it all again at work. The sympathetic faces, the platitudes 'It happened for a reason. You'll try again, don't lose heart.' I smiled kindly and thanked them for their concern, touched by the warmth of their hugs. Cake and a hot drink helped a bit, filled the empty space in my stomach and appeased the gnawing, raw hurt momentarily. The routine, getting through the day on autopilot, smiling a bit, laughing on cue at jokes. I'm not better yet, but I have come up a step from the dark depths of my pit of  sorrow. I'm raw, hurt and a bit stuck - the tears won't all come at once. But I've always believed that tears push out all the sadness and despair and make room for more happiness.

I want my husband, just to hold him and feel his solid, reassuring warmth, arms wrapped around me, holding me steady. Remind me I'm still a loving person, remind me I can still be loved without it hurting.

Will we try again? Yes, I think so. Underneath all the fear and pain, there is a heart still beating. That heart is strong and will keep on loving, no matter what. There's more than enough room to take what life throws at me, and enough love to love my angel babies as well as my take-home babies.