I'm doing better. Some days. Other days are not so good, I guess.

It's just that sometimes it seems like nearly every day of the week I'm somehow greeted with the news of, "Guess what! We're having a baby!"

And I want to be happy. I really, really do. But this weekend has been hard. We planned out how we were going to tell my family. Put little sonogram pictures under everybody's place mats at Thanksgiving dinner. Surprise!

But instead I was greeted with torrents and torrents of blood as my body went on its second round of let's make sure everything's properly cleaned out.

I know that's kind of brutal to hear. But just imagine going through it. At 4 a.m. When you're out of town and not at home. And completely embarrassed because you've probably ruined someone else's sheets. And there's nothing you can do about it.

But it's like I said. There are bad days and there are better days. It hit me like a sledge hammer the other day when P said, It's like I come home from work and I look at you and there's just this blankness behind your eyes. And there's nothing I can do about it. And it's weird because that's not the person I know...

That shook me. There's a time to mourn and a time to be sad. We're learning that- each in our own way. But there's also a time to let go. And I'm trying to learn the balancing act. Learn how to let that sadness go sometimes instead of clinging to it.

But this whole thing is one big learning process. And we're not giving up.