The tears leak out of me, without permission.
When I realise what’s going on and I am powerless to change it.
The cruelest thing over the past few days has been the fact my brain keeps tricking me into thinking that I am still carrying a child. My stomach is still swollen and every now and again my breasts ache.
I am tired and drained but that amount of blood loss will account for that. Combined with a sleepless toddler and the itch of hay fever, my eyes are heavy.
Just as I start believing that my heart is beginning to lift, like a wave, the energy drains from me. I can’t really believe that this has happened to us.
My sweet little boy deserves a little brother or sister for life-long companionship. My husband, such a wonderful father, has so much to give our family.
But we’ve got to get back into our stride. As a family of three for now. I need to get back to work. We need to move on with hope in our hearts. Reality calls.
I could take a test. I could take a test that would bring closure. But what if my hormones are still adjusting? What if it comes back positive and that gives my brain another justification for believing in the impossible? And if it comes back negative, am I ready for that confirmation? Am I ready for closure?
I’ve always been one for believing in the unbelievable. Suspending judgement. But this seems a step too far.