I hate Tuesdays

Someone made the mistake of asking me how I was doing today.

An innocent question, and luckily, she is a very close friend dealing with her own stressful situation, so she didn't mind when I instantly started crying. Right there in a restaurant while we were out to lunch with our kids. I told her how today has been 3 weeks since my world was shattered. I told her that I can't bring myself to take down the ultrasound picture of my dead baby girl. How everyone and their aunt has been asking me when we will start trying again (please people, just stop asking me). How I saw someone I know last week in the parking lot of Target who is 7 months pregnant and I could barely keep it together while I was talking to her about how cute she looked and how much her son is moving around in her belly and afterwards I took my girls into the bathroom and cried for a good 15 minutes. How some of my friends and family seem to have forgotten that this isn't something that you get over in a day or a week or even a month...you don't ever get "over" it. The people who don't ask tick me off. The people who do usually get a fake "I'm OK," or if I know them well, me crying. I mostly cry to the friends who understand - they've been here before.

If you've never been pregnant, you might not understand what happens to women after they deliver - a live birth, a miscarriage (before 20 weeks), or a still birth. It doesn't matter if your baby lives or dies - you still go through the baby blues, and if you are even as far along as I was, your milk still comes in. I threw up twice a day for 3 months solid and I don't have a brand new baby to snuggle and nurse. I have an ultrasound picture and a sore body. And a heavy, sad heart.