Tuesday, January 12, 2010
On December 17th, I headed off to the doctor, thinking more about the upcoming Christmas holiday than the possibility that my pregnancy had ended. I was a bit nervous when the nurse, then doctor, could not find the heartbeat on the sound radar, but tried not to get overly concerned. This had happened to a friend of mine and everything had been just fine. One quick look at the ultrasound confirmed that all was not fine. At 18 weeks, my pregnancy and this little baby's life was over, just a week before the most festive day of the year. It's been almost a month now and with the wonderful support of family and friends and a therapeutic trip to up north, we are doing much better. I cried writing this but I noticed 3 days ago, I made it through the whole day without crying and I am no longer waking up in the middle of the night with that horrible pit in my stomach. Today, I started watching a friend's daughter and we turned the planned nursery into a playroom for the girls. They love it. After I write this post, I will be looking through January's cooking magazine for a recipe for tonight and maybe I'll even write out a menu for the next few weeks using either Bon Appetit or Food and Wine. There is no right or wrong way to heal from something tragic and if cooking does that for me, well, let's keep cooking!