favorite part of the day

We're closing in on it.  The part of the day where I get to take my sleeping pill.  Then shortly after, my vision begins to blur, and I fall into a blissful 10-12 hours of sleep.

First loss

It had been nearly a year when a faint line finally appeared on a pregnancy test one February morning.  I should have been overjoyed, but deep down I knew that this wasn’t it, that this wasn’t going to be our baby.  

I spent an overly long lunch trying to get a blood test.  The lab closest to work claimed they haven’t received the lab order, so after a tearful call to my nurse, I frantically drove to the main lab, far from work.

Several hours later my nurse called, her voice telling all.  I was indeed pregnant, but the number was extremely low, and based on the date I ovulated, it didn’t look good, but they would have me go in for a second blood test 48 hours later to confirm either way.

I didn’t need confirmation, I already knew.  I came home that night and had to wish my husband a happy anniversary tied in with the news that I was pregnant, but having a miscarriage.

Perhaps the most well time blizzard in history was scheduled for the next day, so Scott and I cozied up and did whatever we could to take our mind off of things, and that night I started to bleed.

In spite of it all, my doctor took it as a fantastic sign that at least now we knew that I could be pregnant, that my body could manage that.  But that didn’t dull the pain or the loss.