Today is Saturday, October 30th.  Yesterday, I was six weeks pregnant.  And yesterday morning, I miscarried.

I was teaching first period at school and began having cramps, just like the cramps I'd had the night before.  I tried to brush them off as my uterus stretching, but they got harder.  And then they went away.  But they started up again during first period.  I excused myself to the restroom and my fears were confirmed.  Blood.  It felt like I'd had the wind knocked out of me.  The tears started immediately.  And I couldn't breathe.  I tried to compose myself and texted Mr. J, my co-teacher, and asked him if he could come sit with my class.  I was miscarrying.

I think he ran from the third floor out to my portable classroom, because by the time I made it back to my classroom, he was there.  I tried to compose myself in front of my kids, but the tears wouldn't stop.  As hardened as I sometimes think these kids are, they are still some of the sweetest teenagers I've ever been around.  I choked through, "I'm having a family emergency and need to leave.  Mr. Johnson is going to be here with you."  One of my girls ran up and hugged me.  One of the boys said, "Quick!  Somebody say something that will make her laugh!"  And it did make me smile.  And I'm thankful for the kindness and compassion of those first period kiddos.

I made it to the parking lot where I called P and through sobs told him it was over.  The pregnancy was finished.  There was blood and lots of it.  He hung up and headed home to meet me. I drove slowly on the way home.  It felt like I was going to pass out from hyperventilation from crying so hard and gasping to breathe.

I beat P home.  And I was glad I did.  I went upstairs to our bedroom, took off my shoes and pants, leaned over the bed and heaved and heaved and screamed and sobbed and tried to let it all come out of me while I was still alone.  I don't know if I've ever felt such pain coming up from my core.  My soul.

I was afraid this could happen.  In my youth I made some very bad relationship decisions and as a result,  I was not very kind to my body.  And since then, I've had a couple of other issues come up related to a bad decision by one of my doctors.  But for the last few months, I'd been doing all the right things.  Eating right, taking vitamins, staying healthy and positive, and I hoped for the best.  But in the back of my mind, I knew this was still a possibility.

But I'd spent the last few weeks feeling the baby grow in my belly.  Weeks of having to pee every couple of hours.  Weeks of feeling tired but loving every second of it.  Weeks of feeling absolutely famished all day long and loving knowing that every time I ate, my baby was eating to-- and growing and getting stronger.  Weeks of planning what the nursery would look like.  I bought the baby's first book.  The Tales of Benjamin Bunny.  And now it was over.  My body was pushing the baby out.  I felt every cramp.  It's the most helpless feeling I've ever felt in my life.  Your body betrays you.  No matter how much you plead and beg and cry, it still pushes the baby out.  You're helpless to stop it.  All you can do is lie there and let it happen.

It's twenty-six hours later.  And the last day has been spent lying down and in P's arms.  Now, more than ever, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I married the right person.  He doesn't know what to say except I'm sorry.  But he knows that his big, strong arms help.  And he wraps me up in them and tells me to cry as long as I need to.  Even when we're in bed at three in the morning and I'm crying because I've just woken up and remembered that I'm not pregnant anymore.  He doesn't want to leave my side, and when he has to, he texts me to see if I'm ok. 

I'm really sad.  In my head I know that miscarriages are nature's way of getting rid of embryos that wouldn't be viable had they gone full term.  I know medically, it was probably the best thing.  But for a few weeks, I felt redeemed.  I felt like maybe I wasn't ruined.  Like maybe my past wouldn't define my future after all.  I felt like I had won.  But all that came crashing down yesterday morning.  And it hurts.

But I'm not giving up.  Not just yet.