And that's how it goes in the life of a DBM*.
High on top of the world one minute when you're feeling confident in the future, then completely gutted the next minute when you read about it happening for a second time to someone else.
Today should have been the first day of my third trimester. I should be huge. I was already huge! I should be huge-er. I really, really miss being pregnant. I really, really hate milestone days like this. I really, really hate that I still have these days in my head and that they're still marked on my calendar (even though they're scratched out...I still know what is under those heavy pen marks). I should make it through the rest of the summer without a date like this slapping me in the face; other than Caleb's due date this was the last big milestone.
*Dead baby mama.