Yesterday, we went to the clinic to have my blood drawn to find out if our little ball of bubbles turned into a baby.
So, after being made to wait 8.5 hours, while trying to be productive at work, they called to let us know that the test was negative. By then, I was numb. It took a good couple of hours for the shock to wear off.
Then, the devastation set in. And then, the question of, “what did we do wrong?” surfaced.
I woke up this morning, not knowing if I would make it through the day. So I told myself, if I could make it through the first hour of work, I’d be okay. And I did, and I was.
I think it was because there are over 100 people who have been with us every step of the way. Believe me, we are still devastated. We are still asking why. But we know that we are not alone.
This is not the end of the road for us. The journey doesn’t stop here. We aren’t sure where the road is going to take us next, but at least we know we’ll get there together.
So, today, while trying to sort out exactly how I felt about this, a song popped in my head, as one normally does when I have trouble articulating my actual thoughts. Brandi Carlile – The Story (Lyrics): http://youtu.be/h5c4ARb5ORw It was most likely first written as a love song. I first heard it on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. My fellow Grey’s fans will know which episode and I won’t ruin it for anyone who is still catching up. But, the song fit me today, because it talks about wanting to tell someone your story, your history. And who gets to hear those stories more often than anyone? Our children. History is passed down by storytelling. But, when you look ahead, and there’s no one to carry on your story, it’s hard to imagine that all the awesome events in your life were worth it.