"breathe...just breathe"

for some reason that song has repeatedly popped into my head this weekend. it's the one by anna nalick. and the verses don't really have anything to do with what we're going through...but the chorus just keeps popping up. "cause we can't jump the tracks, we're like cars on a cable, and life's like an hourglass glued to the table. no one can find the rewind button, girl. so cradle your head in your hands. and breathe, just breathe."

there's no real way to explain what has happened or what is really going on right now.

Thursday we went in for our 9 week ultrasound. They could not find a heartbeat. Thursday was heartbreaking. so many tears. so much raw emotion. friday, it was surreal; not quite believable. nothing felt any different. a waiting game. how could this be true? late friday night, the spotting began. with that came a whole new realm of tears. knowing our baby was no longer alive; no chance for a miracle. saturday was an escape. i sat and watched movie after movie and did not really acknowledge the world or my situation. and sunday. sunday came the pain. god awful cramps and excruciating pain accompanied by an immense loss of blood. i was in pain, i was scared to be alone, and i knew we had lost our baby. monday morning. pain was pretty much gone. blood loss had lessened. and early the morning, i saw our baby in the flesh.

the weirdest moment of my life. if you're grossed out easily this will maybe gross you out. all i can say is that this day has been so outside of myself. i feel very disjuncted and objective. and i have a feeling, come tomorrow and the days that follow, the emotions that i should have felt today will probably sneak up on me. today i saw my little baby. the pinprick of eyes, little arms, tiny body. tiny doesn't do it justice. so small. how can something that small be alive and have a heartbeat. and yet, it was. that was my baby.

and i lost it.