We got pregnant on the first try.

Eight weeks later we saw a heartbeat.  Two weeks after that, the heart had stopped and two days later I had our dead baby suctioned out of my uterus in what felt like one cold, clinical swoop.

I am so depressed I can't function.  I have cried in my sleep, in my waking hours, trying to get dressed, giving up and getting back in bed.  I can't go to work.  I have clung to my husband and, when that didn't provide enough comfort (as nothing can at this horrific time), I have switched to screaming at him for not showing more emotion, for not crying over the loss of our baby, for being ready to go back to work himself just days after the surgery.  We have screamed at each other today: me accusing him of not loving me or our lost baby, him accusing me of being too depressed and anxious the whole time he has known me and thereby causing great damage to our relationship.

I would never commit suicide, let me make that clear.  Because I have a little niece I am very close to and because her mother walked out on her and I can't be another woman who leaves her.  But right now she is the ONLY reason I can see to live.  I feel hopeless for so many reasons: my marriage has struggled so long under the weight of family needs and my own emotional dysregulation.  My baby (the one I waited and planned so long to try for) is dead.  My job - once fulfilling - has taken a sour turn lately due to administrative mismanagement.  My friends are all living their lives with their own babies - I was one of the last to become pregnant, and now I am one of the last to be childless.

I made appointments to go to therapy this week - one appt with my husband and another to see a separate counselor alone - but I feel so little hope they will help me out of this incredibly dark place.  What can they say to replace my child?  To make me not hurt?  To take back the mean things my husband and I screamed at each other?  Nothing.

I feel racked with grief and surrender.

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