If anything, I’m glad that this miscarriage wasn’t as traumatic... the first one, I was almost fifteen weeks, we had already announced it, and the only reason we found out was because we went to find out the sex of the baby. Otherwise I would’ve been oblivious til eighteen weeks.
This one, I only knew about for a few days... but those few days were just SO joyous. I was so excited. Every day, at eleven eleven in the morning and at night I would wish, “please, let me carry this baby, please, let me keep this baby, please...” It was only four or five wishes, but, not granted obviously. And this time my body took care of it on its own, without the surgery, which I guess I should be grateful for too.
But now I’m mourning again, and I don’t want to tell everyone, oh yeah, I miscarried again, because I feel like they’d just think I’m looking for attention. The only people who know are my doctors (obviously) and my husband, and my parents and sister. Plus you guys.
Sorry I keep posting about it. I’m just so in shock, such disbelief, that it happened again. A second, consecutive miscarriage. Another little angel baby I’ll never get to hold...
