The hardest thing I had to tell the O&G doctor while in the ER was when he asked me...the numbers of pregnancies I've had.
"5...this would be the 5th...and this is the 3rd consecutive miscarriage"
Two healthy gorgeous daughters with healthy pregnancies and then three children of heaven, one was a boy at 12 weeks, one was at 10 weeks and this....at 8 weeks.
Though I am blessed with my two sweethearts, I think i am allowed to be sad. To grief for my unborn angels.
Though some say I shouldn't made it public, I feel I have to acknowledge their short existence in my life. They were literally a part of me then and I think they took a slice of my soul as they passed.
Though some would say others have gone through worse, I can agree but it still hurts like mad.
In public...I made it light. I made jokes. I have to not dwell on the sadness. It's my way of letting people know and keep myself distracted from the real anguish. From falling into the deep spiral of anxiety and depression that is just....there.
Inside...I'm grieving. It's my third miscarriage. Third loss. In two years. In a row. .... and I am allowed to be sad about it.
Sure the world have bigger problems. But my little self can't deal with that right now.