The Rain Came Down

Yesterday it was raining. And my heart was breaking into a million trillion little tiny pieces.

Yesterday my Jeff took me to the hospital to have a little procedure to help my body complete the miscarriage process.

Yesterday I cried a lot. I am still crying.

The only thing I have ever wanted my whole entire life is to be a mom. I want to have a million and one (or 6) kids to love every single second. Of every single day.

A few months ago, we started talking about another baby. I say why not have 13 more.

Last Friday I was almost 12 weeks along. I went to the doctor and our sweet, 2 inch baby, had died. No more heartbeat. The heartbeat that we had seen 2 times before was gone.

I cried. And cried.

Ironically enough, this was the only baby that we ever actually tried for. Beautifully enough, it was due on Feb. 22 - the day before our 20 year anniversary.

We had already told the kids. They were so so so excited.

We love our family. Our kids love our family. Another baby is a blessing. More to love.

I screw up a lot of things - money, laundry, recipes, pool cleaning. But I don't screw up love. When I was a little girl, I would lay in bed with my eyes squeezed tight and I would remind myself that every single day I would love my kids with everything that I had. I even wrote letters to them. Thirteen year old me would tell them how much I loved them and that I WANTED them and that they would always always always be safe and always be loved. ALWAYS.

Losing this baby hurts just as much as the other two babies that we've lost.

Losing this baby makes me want to take the other five and not let them out of my sight for the rest of forever.

I know that it will all be okay. It was all okay the other times too.

I don't know if there will be more Carrkids. I think our five are pretty darn fantastic.

I know that we love them. I know that Jeff loves me. And I know that I have the family that I've always wanted. And even if we live on the street, we will be okay because we have each other.

Family.
Our family.

And it is okay to cry.

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And a little side note...I wrote this for me. Don't comment. I don't do well with sad puppy dog eyes or condolences or thinking of you messages. I am happy to pretend that everything is perfect all of the time. (I know I should prolly see someone for this.)