Last night was a rough night. There were a lot of tears. I was at a point where I didn't want to be strong anymore. I just wanted to stay in bed forever and cry. Of course I knew that would get me no where, but that is what I wanted. I wasn't so much sad for what might be but I was sad for what should be. I am sad for what should be but isn't. I should be excitedly expecting my baby girl but I am actually dreading going into labor. I should be planning the nursery but instead I am discussing a play-room as a compromise. I should be happily buying cloths for Quinn and imagining how adorable she will look in them and instead I am trying to decide where you find the one perfect outfit that might be the only one she ever wears. I should be imagining my daughters playing in the front yard together but instead I am imagining what it will be like to grieve loosing a daughter.
I keep trying to stop myself from wondering why. It doesn't mater why, it is and I need to deal with it. I do think that I have been doing remarkably well but sometimes I just can't do it anymore. Sometimes I have to lay in bed and cry on Steve's shoulder and just give in to how much this just fucking sucks.