.

Maybe anyone reading this feels that I am being overly dramatic, but I don't care. I am not writing for other people, I am writing to get these words and feelings out of me and onto "paper." Once I hit that "publish" button, I am done with whatever is currently eating at me and I can go from there and stop focusing so severely on this. 


I am getting to the point where I think I can handle this. I go the majority of the day without thinking about it. And then a wave of horrible sadness washes over me, threatening to drag me out to sea where I will be eaten alive. I haven't been speaking to God either. That wasn't a conscious choice, just something that sort of happened, just like when a friend does something hurtful, you instinctively begin to avoid them. I didn't even realize that I'd been avoiding Him until very recently. And when I do talk to Him, it feels awkward. I feel like I don't know what to say. Deep down, I know I can still trust Him and that He is there waiting for me to come back, but right now, it just doesn't feel right. I feel like any prayer is going to feel forced and possibly disingenuous, like I'm just saying the words because that's what I am supposed to say, and is that really praying? Essentially the "nod and smile" version of prayer.
I know there was something wrong with my baby, but I still have moments of blaming myself. I had 3 ultrasounds and at each one they said the baby was six and a half weeks old by size, but over eleven weeks by dating. He wasn't growing. The doctor told me that there was a chromosomal problem and nothing I could have done would have changed that. And that once you see a heartbeat, there's only a five percent chance of miscarrying. Clearly something was wrong. But I don't think it is fair, and I become overwhelmingly sad when I think about the life that was growing inside me and that now I am just empty, void. I went into labor, which was absolutely horrific pain, and after being given anesthesia, my body delivered an unbelievably tiny, dead baby. I could have handled that pain knowing something joyful was on the other end, but knowing that what was causing it was so horrific, it just shattered my heart further.
I don't want to cry anymore, I just want to move on. I want my body to get back to normal, and I want to be able to comfortably talk to God again.