A few weeks ago I said I wanted to be honest in this space. I wanted to be vulnerable and I wanted to be real.

It's harder than I thought it would be.

I had a special post planned for Monday.

We bought Topher this adorable little t-shirt: "Big Brother Team Captain", it said. He wore it to Grandma and Grandpa's house Saturday evening - he was so excited to share the big secret he's been keeping.

Of course Nathan's parents were ecstatic - they've been waiting for a second grandchild practically since the day Topher was born.

Then, Sunday morning - I started bleeding.

Just a little spotting, at first.

Then more.

And more and more and more.

We spent Sunday night/Monday morning in the hospital but by the time the doctor finally got around to examining me - we already knew the diagnosis.

"Your pregnancy has terminated," he said.

So cold. So clinical. 

He gave me a prescription for T3 and sent me home with a dismissive "It's so early, everything will happen naturally. Come back if the pain gets unbearable."


Monday - I couldn't move. I laid in bed and cried.

And cried and cried and cried.

We had only found out about the baby the week before.

The day after the Expo, to be precise.

One week - but I already loved my little bean.

I don't know what I expected - but I didn't expect the pain.

Nathan had to carry me to the bathroom - then hold me while I sat there, shivering, shaking, trying not to be sick.

I've never seen him cry so much, or so hard.

Only one week - but he loved our little bean, too.

Physically - I'm getting there. I can walk to the bathroom under my own steam now, and Topher was thrilled to see me standing in the entryway, waiting for him when he got home from Jaime's yesterday. "Mommy's AWAKE!!!" he said, like he was completely shocked to see me functioning again. Last night I sat on the couch with him to watch some of his beloved Diego - and we ate dinner as a family.

But the other pain still feels unbearable.

I feel numb.

Like there's no colour left in the world.

The few people we've told - family - have tried to be understanding. Encouraging. "You'll have another one," they all say.

But the way I feel right now?

That's not even a possibility.

I'm terrified.

If I could think of a word that means more terrified than regular terrified - I'd put that.

I don't want to go through this again.

I know there was nothing we could have done - we didn't do anything wrong, "it just happens". One in four, the doctor said.

But I can't help but wonder - is it because I'm so small? Did I exercise too much? Maybe I shouldn't have been lifting Topher?

What if I'm defective?

I debated whether or not to even post this.

I guess I just wanted to say ... This is what I'm going through. It's hard and I'm hurting.

I don't have anything encouraging to write as a conclusion, so I'm going to share a video instead.

* For whatever reason, I can't get it to embed - so click here.

I know I've shared this song before. It doesn't help to listen to it now - but I know it's truth.

"This is what is means to be held, how it feels when the sacred is torn from your life - and you survive. This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held." (Held - Natalie Grant)