Our plan was for both of us to go back to work today. Randy made it. I didn't. I just wasn't ready yet. Lying in bed this morning I just could not fathom going about my daily tasks as though things are normal when they are actually so, so wrong. I'm a time bomb, just waiting for the child inside me to die, after all. I stayed in bed until noon and probably would not have gotten up even to eat lunch if not for my sister. She came to bring pizza, hang out, and deliver a fresh supply from her stash of the TV show we are currently using as an escape from reality. She also provided a friendly ear to listen to my incessant fears, which have morphed from: "what if I can never get pregnant?" (check) to "does my life even have any purpose? what was the point of my existence?" and "what makes me so bad that my babies can't live inside me?" I really can't imagine having to go through today alone, without someone to pick me up, dust me off, and take care of me.
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good sister
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