This past month has been one of the happiest cluster of weeks in my whole life. It's been a dream come true; something both Stéph and I have been working towards for years. Plus, because of the timing of the thing, we both felt like this was literally heaven sent.
But it wasn't meant to be.
Wednesday night I miscarried at ten weeks, five days. Since that time, I have been experiencing the worst pain I have ever felt in my life, both physically and emotionally. In an unprecedented move, I am letting my family take care of me, for a change.
I know that we are going to get past this, and we are going to try again, and to tell you the truth, I was starting to worry that we couldn't even get this far, so it is a relief on some level to know that there can be an "again." But my heart, well, that's a different story. For now, it's back to the drugs, and oblivion.