As I lay here in the dark, next to my sleeping husband, I’m amazed at how quiet the world can be, when everything you love is shattering to pieces. As I lay here, bleeding and cramping, I know that I am going through my second miscarriage this year.

I feel that I am a failure. Will we ever have kids? I hate myself, why can’t I give him and myself the one thing we desperately want. I never thought this would happen to me. Especially twice. He is so upset at the situation. Saying it isn’t fair and that he doesn’t want to try anymore.

How can I live without trying? This is something I’ve wanted to be my entire life: a mother. I don’t know how to cope with this. I feel numb, broken and just like I’ve failed, like my body has failed. I don’t even know what words will help me move on or understand. I’m watching my entire group of family and friends have kids, one after another and it looks soooo easy to protect their babies in their bellies and move onto delivery, but once I have my baby in mine, it’s like modern warfare inside me.

I do everything right. I eat healthy, I drink water, prenatals, take it easy, you name it. Are their any multiple miscarriage mamas that finally gave birth to their rainbow? That can tell me it’ll happen someday? I really need some kind of solace. We lost our first at 5 weeks 6 days and today I would have been 5 weeks. Pregnancy is becoming trauma. I never thought this would be me. It feels like I’m being punished. I just want to be a mom.