Due Date

When I initially went to the hospital on August 3, I unknowingly was have a miscarriage at approximately 12 weeks.

That means my due date would have been somewhere in the next 1-2 weeks.

This isn't the first time a due date full of emptiness has been staring me in the face. But it is the first time I'm putting words to the depth of pain.

It is incredibly surreal to think that we could have had a baby girl or boy to wrap our arms around. It is equally as painful to know we won't.

I won't lie, this is the time I dreaded from the moment I knew. The day that would come and go, filling me with the overwhelming sense of loss which had dissipated some.

What complicates the emotion further is knowing I still have one more of these days coming in June. Unfortunately, that has potential to be made worse by having a couple friends who are due around the same time.

There aren't any tears. In fact, I'm not sure how to feel. I don't want to feel. I cried my tears over the loss. I'm not sure I have anything left.

My lack of tears doesn't negate the pain. It's there.

We should be excited and living our dream.

But we aren't. It reignites those questions of why.

Believe it or not, there's little from my past that makes me ask why any more. Usually that question comes out of a trigger.

This...this is something I don't understand. I struggle to understand it all. The loss. The unanswered prayers. The pain. The deep desire.

Our inability to have children will be forever the thing that I can't find purpose in. The thing I constantly doubt can be redeemed.

I'm not sure how to deal with this. It's yet another thing that we have to walk through alone.