Aye. I'm here.
Again.
I don't like "here."
It's hard to embrace that this is my life.
And yet I still wake up and think, "Is this my life? Is this really happening?"
And it is.
The last miscarriage was on my birthday.
I thought that couldn't be any worse.
It also killed my 4.0 G.P.A for the semester (but I still made the Dean's List anyway.)
But those inconveniences seem so insignificant now.
This time I miscarried while visiting my grandmother in the hospital.
The night we were all sure she was going to die.
Yea.
I could laugh then.
We all kind of did.
Now all I can seem to do is cry...
and throw up.
The hormones haven't worn off yet and so I'm nauseous all the time and still vomiting.
It's been a week.
I don't want to be "here."
