Please, NO NEGATIVE COMMENTS. I've had a bad day already, anything to comfort, relate to, or even spark my smile would be better appreciated.

I had a miscarriage May 2, 2014. I was 15, honestly, I still cry about it every single day, and holidays, May 3rd are the worse. (I found out the next day, which is when I grieve). My mother didn't know at all, but him and his mother did. I went to the doctor once a week (I had and older friend whom worked there). I was maybe 3&1/2 months along when his mother finally believed me. But I was 4months and maybe a week or so May the 2nd, I was leaving school late, and this boy come running down the stairs. I didn't know until he bumped into me, and God. It hurt so much when I hit that railing, I felt like every breath in me was gone. I began to feel blood in between my legs. The boy looked at me, he looked terrified, he apologized and ran. I made my way to the restroom and cleaned up as best I could. (Had to throw my underwear away). The next day, May 3rd, I had an appointment. I live in Georgia, and him and his family just moved to California. His mother was goin with me, at the last second she cancelled. I went alone, again. I was alone when I found out. But before I even left I told his mother what happened. She cried, and in her sobs she told me "it's for the best, you don't have any way to support yourself and a baby, and my son wouldn't have helpped" and hung up on me. I've heard from her son once since then.

It may have been better considering my situation in life, but I lost a child that never got to live. I deal with it every single day, I can't just turn it off. Today it just got too much for me, I found my old note book with my baby names picked out. Girl, Elizabeth Michelle, or boy, Michael Julian. I also found one of the sonygrams (not sure of that's spelled right), and I just had several flashbacks flood my mind. I couldn't breath, and I needed air therefore I'm venting here.

Thank you for no harsh comments. (Please!)