The hardest thing.
Perhaps the hardest thing about losing my baby is knowing that nothing I did was enough.
It wasn't enough that I quit drinking caffeine. It wasn't enough that I no longer drank alcohol and stayed away from people who smoked.
It wasn't enough that I no longer wrestled with difficult animals at work.
It wasn't enough that I avoided the radiology suite.
It wasn't enough that I began to take better care of myself.
It wasn't enough that I started eating healthier and religiously took my vitamins even though they made me nauseous.
It wasn't enough that I started doing light exercise.
It wasn't enough that I started sleeping better.
Nothing I did was enough for my baby to live. And I'm left with a giant hole in my life again.
Why has my body betrayed me twice? When will this feeling of inadequacy go away?
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