Beta #1: a thoroughly unimpressive 17. I have been spotting, off and on (mostly on) since yesterday. There is a tiny flicker of hope in my heart - amazing, huh? - but I feel as if the writing is on the wall. Only time will tell.
I keep trying to tell myself to stay positive, because even if I do lose this one too, this baby deserves a happy home for whatever time it has left before the utesaurus rears it's ugly head. I am struggling. I took the day off today to process (um, cry at will). I did not have the strength to lift the mask of my public persona, and hold it in place all day. Surely, I would have been crushed to rubble beneath it.
I have so much that I want to write, but I cannot right now. I am still processing, still considering where my path will lead if this pregnancy fails. The critters await feeding time (yeah, I get to take care of my in-law's dog - in addition to my own two - this week, while they are travelling to visit their living grandchild, and I am most likely miscarrying. Good times). Laundry must be done, the kitchen cleaned. Life goes on, even when the thrill of living is gone.
Wednesday cannot come quickly enough.
Oh, and thank you all for the kind comments after my last post. You truly have no idea how much they mean to me, you "strangers". Thank you all.