well here it is....

I have wanted to get back into this blog for quite some time now. 
mostly because this was the place I said things
I didn't always say out loud. 
and this.... these things I have never really said out loud
(I guess I'm still not- I'm writing)
 are something I have needed to get out.

last year- this month-
Summer ran out of our room to rockstar daddy sitting on the couch. 
she was holding the indicator to the growth of our little family. 
something that took me by complete surprise. 
when we decided to have rockstar babies... it took a little time.
best thing I have ever waited for
so when after only 2 months of trying this time, 
and that screen flashed "pregnant", I was beyond happy.
I did not have an easy pregnancy with Summer. 
she made every moment of my pregnant life absolutely miserable. 
(until she kicked those little toes into my belly. that was pure bliss)
but I threw up every day, multiple times a day. 
I had sharp pains from early on. 
And you remember, I went on maternity @ 5 months. 
No Bueno!
But the love I had already had for that tiny little being inside me,
had made every sick minute well worth it. 
I was in love from the moment I held that first positive test in my hand. 
(and possibly even before then)

Well it only made sense that I was miserable x5 with this one 
that was so easy to bring into this world. 
I was terribly sick. 
More than the throwing up and pains. 
I was depressed. I wasn't me. 

We had our first sonogram in December. 
Ben met me at the dr with Summer. 
We wanted to introduce her to her new rockstar baby.
And there it was. 
The first tech had trouble finding "a good picture of the baby"
She grabbed a more experience tech. 
She had the same trouble. 
They attempted an internal.
They didn't look like two professionals who just weren't having luck that night. 
They looked like two sad puppies who couldn't tell this new growing little family, 
that they couldn't find their baby. 
We left with their words of encouragement that the doctor would reschedule when I was further along. 
I was probably just earlier in the pregnancy than they thought. 
That had to be it. 
I'm a mom. And I know my body. 
That wasn't it. 
Ben told me not to overreact. 
If there was something wrong, someone would have called us and told us. 
They wouldn't have let us go home with false hopes. 
I'm a mom. And I know my body. 
I wasn't overreacting. 

A couple of days later, 
I finally broke down to my mom and told her what happened. 
I told her I didn't want to worry her, but I knew there was something wrong. 
Despite my pleas for her not to. 
She called the doctor. Who was delivering a baby. She was to call us as soon as she was out. 
I decided to go home. 
I was pregnant and hormonal and probably overreacting. 

I was a half of a mile away from my door step. 
My phone rang and the caller id flashed blocked. 
(if you know me, if my called id doesn't recognize you, I do not answer)
I answered. 
I barely said hello. 
The only thing I remember hearing after that ....
"I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry"
The next week was a blurr. 
Life was flashing by. But I didn't move. 
My mind moved 8000 miles a minute and not at all. 
All at once. 

I didn't want to talk to anybody. Or see anybody. 
I didn't want anyone to say sorry or look at me with sympathetic eyes. 
I didn't want to hear others similar stories. Or hear they knew how I felt. 
No one knew how I felt. 
And not because my pregnancy was more significant than someone elses'
Or I loved my baby more. 
It was actually the opposite. 
And I couldn't feel guiltier for it. 

I wrote this a couple of months ago and it sat in my drafts. I was waiting for me to be ready. With the sadness/amazingness of today, I felt I needed to talk about it. Tell my story. The story that has made me a stronger person and a better mother. A story that has shown me the amount of love and support I have from my rockstar husband, my family and friends. <3 i="">

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