My husband is wonderful. Incredibly hardworking, ridiculously clever, humblingly positive and kind, and he has always wanted to be a father. We've been trying for our first child for just over a year and a half. He passed his sperm analysis with flying colors and I started clomid two months back. When we learned we were expecting a third time, he asked me to tell him right away this time. In the past, I've waited, needing a few days to process the news myself. I did as he asked and shared when I knew. He was excited and positive, but unable to understand why I didn't want to let myself get excited just yet. That was last Friday. Today, as I'm miscarrying for the third time in my first trimester... this tears me up inside. Usually an open and bubbly person, these losses have created a hole and vulnerability in me that I can't seem to share with my closest friends and I struggle to share with the person I love most. I know, logically, they've never been more than a few centimeters and a lot of hope, but it just wrecks me. I can't fathom the experience those of you whove had losses later in pregnancy. My heart goes out to any of you who have experienced loss. How do you move through this? How do you remain hopeful for the future? Where do you put all the heartache and fury that comes with each loss so you can keep trying?