It starts pleasantly enough with me and my baby wadding in some water with friends at a family camp. I get called upon, have to attend to something or another so I ask my friend Cheryl to watch my little one who is sitting contently in a floaty. I have been gone a few minutes at most.

As I am making my way back I see my baby scrimmaging out of the safety buckle and standing on the flotation device. Nobody is minding her. I yell for help but I might as well be mute. I scream obscenities in an effort of getting someones attention. She cannot stand. Not on her own. Don't they realize this? She's only seven months old. I run but do not move. I watch as she falls in the water yet still no one has taken note. I jump in after her. I think, "This can not be happening to me, can it? Not again... I can't lose another one. How could it... ".

We dive under, searching, hoping to retrieve her but it is useless. My baby is gone. The following day they drain the lake and find my baby's body just to the other side of where she first went under.

Fast forward to the funeral. A small white chapel, white roses, white coffin. This is how it should be I think to myself. She was so small and innocent. So pure. My baby...

Roses are Red

Went to hang with some peeps today. I've been avoiding them for some time now. They were expecting and now have a second daughter. Two of the most unbelievably adorable little girls one could find.

She's kept her distance, both out of respect and out of awkwardness I presume. He peers into my soul which freaks me right out. I feel exposed like I did with James the other day.

Babies everywhere and it's not even like I can ignore them try as I might. For one, they are super cute and two it seems everyone is compelled to makes silly baby noises. I leave the room.

My first OB never gave us a due date. I imagine she suspected it would not end well. With the second pregnancy I did get one and despite my alarm the date is rapidly approching. I'm thinking of crawling under a rock.

Happy Birthday to you...

My times with this girl are like gold.
Embraced her for hours, exchanged few words, said a thousand things.

What a wretched last few says it's been. Since the first MC I have tried to convince myself that the actual act of MC is painful but bearable. I was wrong. It hurts like a bitch. The worst part of it is that I am fine one second and completely incapacitated the next. This sucks. I have a life. I do not wish to nor do I have the luxury to lye in bed for a week. You'd think my kids would be used to it by now but I'm sure it's rather confusing when I am joking around one minute and the next lying on the couch with tears streaming down my pain stricken face. I'd think me mad.

On the plus side, my little girl seems to be more willing to talk about our repeated losses. I know it's been tearing her up inside. I have sent many a prayers on her behalf. What a charge it is to walk my little darlings through this graciously when I myself am at complete loss.

I joined an e-class today and although it does not start for another month I am rather excited about it. Here is the link if you interested:

again not working.... I guess we will just have to go with the good old fashion copy and paste.

http://infertilityeclass.com/Register.html

I'm super psyched. Did I mentioned that? For one, although I know it's not like super revolutionary or anything, I have never done anything like this before. And secondly I recognize how isolating this journey can be and how essential it is to have a community around you who simply get you without you having to explain yourself and without the fear of being judged.

Yeah gotta love contractions without a baby to show for.

Imagine, let's say something the size of a golf ball being pulled through your inner organs at a very sluggish pace allowing you to relish in the experience all the more. Painkillers don't help a bit. I take them anyways. I think of booze, of weed, and of booze. Clearly I'm out of my mind. Slightly ludicrous. Thank God for husbands and the prehistoric invention of hot water bottles. Without those by my side I would be a mess.