I have debated on whether I truly want to publicly share this past weekend. However, I finally came to the conclusion that I could not simply blog about something else, as if this never happened. I will never deny that I wear my heart on my sleeve. In fact at my last job interview I was asked to describe myself in one word. I chose "passionate." Afterwards I was kicking myself and thinking of all of the other words that sound more professional, such as "motivated," "dependable," "ambitious," or "dedicated." I got the job.

I found out a little over a week ago that I was 6 weeks pregnant. Of course, I was elated. I was anxious, as always, and worried about some differences from my pregnancy with Micaela, but I was elated. I agreed with Caleb, that we should sit on the news for a few weeks, but found myself immediately drawn to the phone and letting the news "slip." Caleb apparently had that same problem, as the new "slipped" to a few of his friends and co-workers as well. I pulled out the pregnancy materials (books and journal articles from my child development classes) and began cracking down and eliminating all my bad habits. I woke up earlier than usual, went jogging regularly, gave up caffeine (and had a nasty headache for a day), ate fruits and veggies instead of Halloween candy, and drank vitamin shakes.

Then Friday morning I woke up bleeding. I was terrified. I had never felt more worse in my entire life. I woke Caleb up and he just held me. I sobbed. Which is so much more than crying. The rest of the morning passed in a daze. I called some people (my parents, my work, my doctor) and went to my doctors office for tests. I was told we would have to "wait and see." Wait and see if I would be given the chance to have this baby. I prayed and prayed and gradually began to receive some comfort, comfort in knowing that somewhere this baby was safe. Comfort in knowing that I too would be ok. Comfort in knowing that I would not get to have this baby at this time. The comfort kept on coming. Micaela brought me tissue and said sweet things like "oh mama don't cry" and rubbed my back. I cried to my parents on the phone and their voices comforted me because I knew they understood everything I was feeling. I am convinced that as a parent you feel your child's pain as your own. Even if your child is all grown up. Throughout the day family and friends called me and the comfort kept coming. It brought tears to my eyes when a true friend called to say "I know you are heartbroken right now and I just want you to know that I am heartbroken for you." People never know what to say in these situations, but just to know I was being thought of and prayed for meant more than any words.

I am now able to write about this because I am feeling very positive. Although I initially wanted to hide in my room, I made a choice to go out and do things to make myself feel good. I went to Jamba Juice, visited with friends and family, went shoe shopping, bought a chocolate mousse cake, ate fish tacos, spent an hour browsing through books at Barnes and Noble, and watched an amazing Utah football game.

I have always felt that all things happen for a reason. I know that the pain I still feel will pass. And I know that I am very fortunate to have such wonderful friends and family members to lean on when the burden is too heavy to bear by myself. Thank you all for your support.