How do you say goodbye?

I was sitting on my couch watching a movie last night, like I am so many, many nights. Except last night was very, very different. But Brian was with me and the lights were out and we were under a blanket and I could see the reflection of the hardwood floors as the television flickered on it. The dog was cuddled up next to us, the cat slinked around the corner and the hallway light was on so Ash wouldn't wake up and get scared in the dark. And I thought, this is my home, this is my world, my little bubble, my bright spot in my life. No one can enter unless I let them, no thoughts can seep in, unless I let them. This is where I can be whole, where I can recuperate, revive, renew. This is what matters in my life. All the great endeavors I work towards outside of here, this is what it comes down too. And I know that I can make any place into a home. That is my gift, home-making. It doesn't matter where we end up, it will be home, and as long as I have a home, I will be okay.

I sat in the hospital yesterday and cried. Cried for not knowing, then cried for fear of what it might be, then cried because I knew what it was. Cried for what could have been, what had been. It doesn't matter if you've been pregnant for 2 days or for 9 months, as a woman, we already have them named and through college. Brian held my hand and gave me tissues. We wondered if it had been a boy or a girl. If it had had that precious first heartbeat yet. Do you name a baby that was barely there?

How things can change so quickly. We'd hardly even known we were pregnant. But I knew, I knew. I told Brian three weeks ago that I was, I even took a test that came back negative, but I just knew. So I took one a week later and it confirmed it. So when things started Monday night it was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me. And I'm thinking, maybe I was wrong, maybe I'm not pregnant and maybe this is just my cycle starting and I'm counting dates in my head over and over and trying to make them line up and they just aren't and why would the test have come pack positive if I wasn't but then I didn't want to think about what it meant if I was truly pregnant and it was what I thought it might be. But some women spot all through their pregnancy, maybe it's nothing, maybe I'm just over-reacting. And I couldn't sleep and I couldn't sleep and I couldn't sleep and I got up at five a.m. and took another pregnancy test and it was positive and this is what I think it is. Maybe.

I was in the car when Tiffany convinced me to go the hospital and I break down and Ash want to know whats wrong and why is mommy crying and I'm devastated because this is real, this is my story, not someone elses. And by making the descion to go to the hospital, I'm admitting that it's really happening. So my wonderful, supportive, amazing husband meets me there and sits through the tests and the iv and the questions and trys not to look at my face so that he doesn't break down and can be strong for me. And later we lay in bed holding each other and trying to start to say goodbye, not really knowing how too.

We did run into a divine appointment at the hospital yesterday that cheered me up a bit, but I'll talk about that some other time. I turned my phone on silent yesterday and I received so many voice mails and texts and I want you to know I'm not ignoring you, I just can't really talk about it right now. Writing is very cathartic for me, it makes me feel better to just let things out here. But I can't talk about it. Technology is amazing, it's an almost nonchalant thing to respond to a text or IM with the news, but I can't hardly say the words, out loud. Not yet.

I know God is here in this, because He is here always. That's what makes this almost okay.

I'm supposed to stay in bed until it's all over and that's good cause all I feel like doing is sleeping