I don't have any way to say this that isn't going to be difficult, so I'm just going to be blunt.
On Saturday, I had a miscarriage.
I will spare you all the gory details. Suffice it to say that I suspected what was coming before it really got started, and called my midwife. She told me what to expect, and how to tell if I needed to go to the hospital.
When I nearly passed out, I went to the hospital. Everyone was very kind, and very gentle.
Everyone assured me that there was nothing that could have been done to prevent this, and nothing that I did that caused it. But still, I am mourning the loss of the child I had hoped and prayed for, and rejoiced over so very recently.
Physically, I'm fine. Emotionally, maybe not so much.
I'll be that way for a while, I suppose.