One of my biggest fears has always been having a miscarriage. On April 11th, my worst fear was realized. You go in, expecting to hear a heartbeat, and you come out with tears streaming down your face, gathering stares from passersby. It's been almost a month now, and the hole in my heart feels bigger than ever. You finally get what you want, and in a matter of seconds, it's ripped away from you, and you're left there feeling hopeless and alone. You think it can't get any worse, until you realize how many of your close friends/family are also expecting, and their pregnancies are going along just fine. Your best friend is 13 weeks pregnant, a week and a half behind what you would have been. Shit like that starts hitting you really hard. When you think about it, the air is ripped from your lungs. You try so hard to be happy for them, especially since they have gone through what you are going through more than once, but you find that it's so hard. Sometimes, you find yourself secretly wishing that it had been them, and not you, and then you feel like the shittiest person alive. You feel ashamed and disgusted that you could think such things, which only adds to your never ending grief. After all, they've been where you are, they know how you feel, and you love them, and are excited that they're finally getting what they want. It's such a complicated issue, and I'd give anything to trade places with just about anyone right now.
gummygunk
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
