My husband lays beside me, asleep, but barely. We have chosen not to leave each other's side, but to lean on each other, in every sense of the word. He is touching me more tonight than usual, rubbing my back and holding me close.
We have lost our baby.
And we are so, so lost.
It's funny how no one ever talks about the physical pain. We hear of the emotional pain, and My God, the emotional pain is there. But I did not know of the physical pain, of knowing what my body was doing, and not knowing why. Aaron watched me writhe in pain and heard the doctor say "Sweetie, there is nothing we can do. Please come to the office tomorrow". He felt hopeless, and so did I. There truly was nothing we could do.
I wanted to throw the phone across the room. I wanted to tell her to shut up or keep talking, I wasn't sure. I wanted to puke. The pain was so intense, that I nearly did.
But no amount of physical pain prepared me for this day, for hearing the ultrasound technician say, "There is no pregnancy". WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? There IS a pregnancy. There HAS to be a pregnancy. No, not me. Not us, this is not happening.
Our lives will never be the same.
We find little things to laugh about, little things to bring us joy. America's Got Talent kept our attention for about 10 minutes tonight, then one of us recieved a text message. Oh, please forgive us for not wanting to talk right now. There just are no words.
I feel a jumbled mess. I wanted this post to be so eloquent, so beautiful, that you would know our hearts, but I can barely see the screen through my tears. And my husband, my best friend, is waiting for me to turn off the light so we can hold each other.