It's really bullshit.

Two years ago on the 28th, I suffered a miscarriage.   I was about 5 weeks along.   I was devastated.   Heartbroken.  

A month later, I found out I was pregnant again.   I was cautiously ecstatic.   When I passed the "D-Day", I felt better.   When we saw the heartbeat, I felt even better.  And when we got to 12 weeks, I felt outstanding.  And 25 weeks later, my happiness was born.

The fact is, I wasn't alone.   One of my good friends had to have a D&C not long after I suffered my miscarriage.   Another 4 or 5 had suffered them on my message board where a great group of girls get together daily to talk.   Miscarriage is so fucking common it's fucking ridiculous.   Another friend didn't have a miscarriage but the baby stopped growing and she lost her child.  And you never realize how common it is till you look at a group of 16 women, and 5 of the 16 have had a miscarriage.  That's 1/3.  And the possibility that that number will go up.

But what I was NOT prepared for was the news I got yesterday.  One of my oldest, best friends in the world -- someone I don't see as often as I'd like, but still is like a sister to me -- was 20 weeks pregnant.  Just 5 short weeks behind me.  Her son and new baby were to be 14 months apart.    I was lucky.  When pregnant with PJ, I had a best friend 5 weeks ahead of me.  And this time, one 5 weeks behind.  Until yesterday.

She went into labor.  They couldn't stop it.  She had to deliver her 1.5 pound beautiful baby girl -- stillborn.   She had to go through all the pain, the emotion, the work of having a baby, simply to see her baby girl never take a breath.   I have no idea why.   All I know is that it is fucking heartbreaking.  And unfair.  And impossible to comprehend.  I suffered a loss.  But I didn't deliver a life.  I didn't feel a baby move inside of me only to have that baby's life end before it even began.  I cannot imagine her pain.  Her suffering.  Her heartache.   I can't imagine it at all.

And although she will still be so happy for me, I know she'll feel pain when she sees me.  Know that seeing me, talking to me, thinking about me, will be a constant reminder of the baby she lost.  Because that's how you feel.   And it's not my fault, or her fault, but it's such fucking bullshit that they haven't figured out a way to fix this god damned horrible fact of life.

I love you, Rita, with everything I have.