Seeds of Hope (and Fear)

My first pregnancy ended at 6 and a half weeks in grief, sadness and loss. My second pregnancy ended in joy, love, gratitude and never ending laughter (and let's not forget the fatigue!). My third pregnancy ended at 8 weeks just this past August in grief, sadness, loss, disbelief and resignation. My recent miscarriage was a blighted ovum (the sac grew but the baby never did). The irony is that the same day the miscarriage started, my mother and I took Ian to the beach. As we sat there watching him play in the sand, I told her how comforting it was that my hcg levels were exactly where they should be... several hours later the red streak of doom announced itself. A few people asked if the fact that there was 'no baby' was... 'comforting'. How do you explain that though there was no baby in my womb, there was in fact a very real baby growing in my heart? Baby Center tells me I would be 20 weeks this week (I can't turn off the damn weekly updates). But I'm not. I'm. Not.

We are still hopeful. It is a mixture of hope and fear. Sometimes there is more fear than hope, other times more hope than fear. Other times, there is nothing. No feeling. Just. nothing.

I'm just not sure how many more babies I can grow in my heart and never get to hold in my arms.