Where to start.  I haven’t been writing because I haven’t felt like writing about what I am thinking about and I can’t very well write about anything else.

Three weeks ago we went to the Dr, we were excited about the fact that we were expecting – we learned that the baby had stopped developing at 7 weeks.  We were asked to come back the next week because sometimes things work out, but cautioned about getting our hopes too high.  The next week confirmed that the baby had in fact died and that we needed to wait.  Wait for my body to catch up to reality.   Then late Friday I started bleeding, a few hours later it started to feel out of control, serious, call the dr time.  He, as expected, sent me to the emergency room and a few hours later I was in surgery, now I am “fine”.  Except I am cold, empty, tired and my head is barely catching up to my body and my heart is still lagging way behind.  I feel on the edge of hysterical saved only by the fact that I don’t have enough energy to be anything other than mildly depressed.