I am like a little processing plant trying to process where we are. And where is that, you ask? In the land of We Cannot Have Children. We can always attempt to adopt, but that is a separate issue. For now, I may as well be wearing a sign on my head: "Mind Full: Grieving Miscarriages and Childlessness."
I won't always feel this way. I keep telling my hubby and parents: one day, I'll get better. I won't hurt this much. But for now, keeping my head up takes all I've got. Going to the gym takes God-strength. Learning our new computer system at work makes my mind fuzzy. Driving past the fertility clinic makes me feel wistful.