It's after just after midnight on Tuesday. I was almost asleep about an hour ago for the first time before 3 am in five days when I felt the need to run to the bathroom due to an intense increase in bleeding. Turns out it wasn't blood...it was the baby.
So here's what happens when you're in that situation. You sit on the toilet and sob. Then, you call out to your sleeping husband six times before he stirs and he goes to get your a snack-sized ziploc because your OB wants you to capture it and bring it in for chromosomal testing. You pull up your pants and seal the bag as well as you can through blinding tears. You grab your pillow and a blanket and head downstairs. You put the baggie in the fridge because what the hell else are you supposed to do with it??? (Should I put it under my pillow and hope the fertility fairy comes by morning?) Then you sit on the couch in the fetal position and watch "Julie and Julia" because it's completely pointless and isn't everything?
So that's what I did with my evening. What is left of our June baby dreams is on the shelf on the door in the fridge between the soy sauce and the salad dressing.
Is this for real?
AKA: welcome to the sarcastic anger of a mother scorn....you ain't seen nothing yet.
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