Right?

I can feel really, truly happy for my friends that are pregnant but at the same time be sad that I'm not, right? Well, for any of my friends that read this and either have babies, or are going to soon have babies, please don't think that I have any bad feelings toward you because of this post, because I definitely don't.

I just really really want to be pregnant and have wanted to be for years now. Yes, years, as in multiple. (I know that some who may read this can never get pregnant or never were able to get pregnant, and I'm not comparing my trials to yours...I'm just having kind of a rough day.) I think that for my personal trial, the fact that my son died suddenly, unexplained just before his due date makes not having a baby just a little more difficult than I thought it would be. Honestly, 2 years ago I was so certain that once we waited the 3 months we were told to wait, we would get pregnant right away because Heavenly Father wouldn't want me to keep hurting this bad, and getting pregnant again was the only thing that would help. And oh my, was I wrong. I can't say why I didn't get pregnant for a year and a half. Maybe it was the depression, maybe it was because I only weighed 102 lbs, or maybe it was my crazy 5p-5a full-time work schedule. All I know is that month after month was torture every time I started my period or didn't start my period til day 40 but kept getting negative pregnancy tests. And then we went on vacation.

Just before we moved and after we quit our jobs, we went on a week and a half trip to visit family. The day we were coming home, I realized that I had been feeling really icky for a few days, but it was only in the afternoons and would go away while I slept at night. I suddenly got really hopeful as I discussed my symptoms with Evan. He wanted me to wait, but I just couldn't...I had to get a pregnancy test. Of course it was positive! I knew it was even before I took the test. Steph knew because she went with me to get the test. The next day-back in Utah- I told my parents. I hadn't planned on telling anyone else, but my mom cried as soon as I walked in the door because she knew it was going to be the last time she saw me for awhile, so I figured telling would ease the pain a bit because I knew she'd be so happy.

My mom went on trek that week with the stake, so I wasn't able to call her on Monday when I started bleeding. It was just spotting, and that was normal, right? I wanted to call my sister and ask, but I still didn't want to tell anyone. I looked it up online and that was NO help.

Wednesday: My Birthday: The day we packed the moving truck to move- I miscarried. I had only just found out I was pregnant-5 1/2 weeks. Why did it hurt so bad? Granted, it didn't feel like a knife in my chest like when Scotlin died...but....we had waited so long and finally caught a break. Now this.

So this whole story is probably irrelevant, but I kind of just wanted to put it out there. No one in my day to day interactions knows about this. Most of them don't even know I'm a mother. It hurts. It's hard to be left out of the "mom chatter" because my son isn't running around and playing with the other kids at playgroup. I'm not pregnant (which I swear everything around here revolves around), so I'm kind of just an outcast. And the worst part is: I can't do a single thing about it. I don't really have anything else to say, but I'm gonna post this anyway just so my blogger buddies can see my human side. If you choose to comment, please don't say anything mean, or downplay my feelings...it doesn't help.

(I'm also not proofreading...sorry)