It's been a super long time since I've cried about ANYTHING, but last Monday, I finally cried. I cried for the baby I didn't get to meet. I cried because it's not fair. I cried because I'm so run down and I needed to. Mostly, I cried because it still hurts and I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like this is so out of my hands and it's scary. When I think about if I want another baby, I just can't even answer that. It feels so not up to me. I don't know if I'm healthy enough, I don't know if I'm happy enough, and I certainly don't know if I could deal with this again. Hell, I didn't really deal with it at all in the first place. I do know that I still think, the baby should be about 8 months old. I know I still get jealous and bitter that other people are excited about their new pregnancies. I don't know what I need to do to feel right about all this or what would be good for me and my family anymore. I guess breaking down for once was the first step in the long process of dealing with grief. I'll keep you posted with how it progresses.
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