Some days, the Universe just toys with you.

I recall an incident last year when I thought it could be “our month” because I had had dreams and all kinds of coincidences I interpreted as signs of impending pregnancy. (I should preface this by saying that the one time I was pregnant, I had four dreams that I was pregnant before there was enough HCG to register on a test!) So, needless to say, I pay attention to my dreams.

I was at the local drug store, shopping in the “family planning” aisle wondering if I should splurge on a real (ie, non-internet cheapie) pregnancy test since I had been getting BFNs on all the Wondfo strips from China… and I leaned in to look at a First Response box and – Bam! – our wedding song started playing over the store’s speaker system. I mean, this just *had* to be a sign. It’s not like we chose a song you ever actually hear on the radio. (Our song is from the movie Xanadu, for crying out loud!)

But, no. All signs and symptoms aside… AF showed up like clockwork on that cycle… just like all the others. And I celebrated drowned my sorrows in a glass or two of good, old-fashioned Tennessee bourbon.

That was certainly an “Are you kidding me?!” kind of day. It really felt like the Universe was just messing with my mind.

That’s kind of how I feel today, although not as dramatic. I was cleaning out the glove compartment box in my car earlier today, and I stumbled upon a set of photographs taken when I was pregnant – not that you could tell or anything – but I knew. And the smile on my face… I just looked so happy… no idea at all of what lay ahead. It made my heart twinge to look at it.

Then, just now, I was going through and trying to clear out boxes from our move (11 months ago – shhh – I know!) and I found this box full of pregnancy books, pamphlets – and a sample of formula labeled as a 3rd Trimester gift from Similac that I didn’t know I had. Why would the hospital give me that?!? Anyway… I stupidly looked through the 1st Trimester pamphlet where they show the development of the fetus from a blastocyst through 12 weeks. I don’t know what possessed me to look at those pictures. I suppose maybe testing myself to see if I could handle it. Well, I can’t. I burst into tears thinking about how far the pea and I had progressed and the horrible week it all stopped.

I haven’t cried over my miscarriage in a long time. But every once in a while, the veil of sadness comes over me and I give in. I try not to look at it as a step backward. I’m only remembering. Only grieving. It’s only natural.

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