I don't know which words to write. I can't believe I'm sitting here, doing this, again. Is this some sort of cruel joke, God? Are you kidding me? I just can't believe this is happening, again.

As I sit here, trying to string together some semblance of a coherent thought, some combination of words that make sense at a time when nothing makes any sense to me, I am overwhelmed with feelings of devastation, heart-break, anger, and bitterness. Unbelieving, unjustness, jealousy, self-pity, self-loathing. And...did I mention anger?

As I sit here, trying unsuccessfully to write, I am losing our second child. Saying good-bye to that precious baby, piece by piece. I awoke from the longest stretch of sleep I've had in several days, startled by the vividness of the dream I couldn't shake: another friend announcing a second pregnancy. These sorts of dreams shouldn't ever become classified in the nightmare category, should they? Others' exciting news of their happy, healthy, ever-expanding families? Ashamedly, lately, that's what they have become for me. Can I take another? Can I sit by, again, smiling and nodding, telling them how happy I am for them, while inside I feel hard, cold, angry? How can I continue to be the friend who sits by and listens, supports, coos over bellies and babies, while a piece of me (and my own baby) dies a little more inside?

I am still in shock that this is happening to us again. To be fair, I'm still in shock that we became pregnant again. This has all happened so fast. And now, the happiness, the hopefulness, is leaving us as quickly as it came. How can this be happening, again?

We received our good news Thanksgiving weekend. Having returned from a visit with my sister and her husband in Columbus, Ohio, on Sunday, November 30, I decided I needed to take a home pregnancy test. My period had not yet arrived, and Drew, Becky, and Justin could probably attest to the fact that I was decidedly tired (and in great need of frequent urination) during our visit. I had been trying not to get my hopes up, and honestly, didn't really think this cycle had turned out that well, anyway (timing issues, lack of hcg trigger shot this time due to someone's incompetence). I took the test, and left the bathroom. I went and sat on the couch in the living room. Drew came over to me and said, "Well?" I told him I couldn't look; I was too nervous. I asked if he could please look for me. (I just couldn't take another negative, again.)

He took a long time. I heard the leaflet from the test package rustle. I heard him walk toward me. I knew, then. "Well, Em, according to this....he looked into my eyes deeply...we're pregnant." My eyes immediately welled up. I couldn't stop saying "Really?" while crying. Could this really be it? Was it finally our turn for happiness? The test line was a little light, but that was definitely a positive test. Thank you, God! We were going to have a baby.

Monday morning, I called my doctor's office, and because they know me way too well there now as an infertility patient, they were all very excited with our news as well. I went in for an hcg quant (blood test) that day to confirm. We got those results back on Tuesday, confirming that I was indeed pregnant. The levels were a bit low, but because I was only a little more than four weeks along, we weren't very concerned. We would just repeat the quant in 48 hours to ensure the levels were rising (hopefully doubling) properly. The results came back on Thursday. I called the office three times that morning. Finally, after lunch, the call came. My hcg levels had gone down slightly. I immediately caught my breath. I knew that was bad news. "Let's not jump to conclusions," the nurse said. "Doctor wants you to repeat the test tomorrow, but we won't have results until Monday. We're not giving up hope yet, okay?" She asked if I was still experiencing pregnancy symptoms, which I was, and if I had noticed any spotting, etc. yet, which I hadn't. I hung up the phone, and tried to hold in the sobs. "Oh God, please, no..." I called Drew, crying, and told him the news quickly, then told him I needed to go to a meeting. I sat in my office, trying to prepare for this meeting, but my mind felt as if it had ceased to think logically, coherently...at all. I sat there, paralyzed, yet hyper-ventilating. My boss walked by, her arms full of binders, on the way to our marketing meeting. "You about ready, Em---oh God, are you okay?" I didn't realize it just then, but I was crying uncontrollably. She came into my office, shut the door, and asked me what was wrong. I told her the whole story, and she told me to skip the meeting, call Drew back, go home, and spend time with him."I'm so, so sorry," she said. "I can't even imagine. This has got to be the worst  thing a woman can go through, and I can't imagine going through it more than once."

I was home Friday, waiting, praying, hoping for a miracle. By the end of the day, I had somewhat convinced myself that this pregnancy might be saved. Saturday morning, around 5 a.m., I awoke with a start. Something wasn't right. I hurried to the bathroom. Hmmm. No red yet. Maybe I'm being paranoid. I went to the bathroom, and that's when I saw it...red on the toilet paper. It had begun. The bleeding became heavy quickly. We did not call the doctor, even though we knew she was on call this weekend. We knew what declining levels and a lot of bleeding meant. There was nothing to be done.

I'm sure I'll get a call from the doctor's office later this morning. Confirming further drops in my hcg levels. I'll tell them then that the miscarriage has begun.

For now, with my head somewhat cleared, I will try to head back to bed. Hope that the elusive sleep can be conquered. And pray that, for now, no more nightmares awaken me, sobbing in a pillow pool of tears.

-Em