I ate a lot of shit. I felt like crap because I was eating like crap. And I didn't care. Panera for dinner one night, with the 99 cent bakery item, frozen yogurt the next. Popcorn at the movies tonight.
Around Thursday, I figured it out. And I just let it keep happening. I knew there was an end, I knew that this eating if my emotions would end tonight.
Today my little girl would have turned six. I say little girl, not knowing if I carried a boy or a girl, but I always felt I lost a girl. For 43 days, I had a life growing inside if me. I saw a heart beat one week. A flickering light on the ultrasound. The next, it was bleak. Two days later, I had a D&C.
It was the only time I was pregnant. Thirteen valid tries (unsafe sex doesn't count), one pregnancy, one miscarriage. Those are my stats.
I was implanted the day before Christmas Eve, I saw the heartbeat the day of Obama's inauguration, I was due on Seotember 12.
Tomorrow I go back to normal. Tomorrow I eat my normal boring food. Tomorrow I will not weigh myself. Tomorrow.
Today, I think about a little girl I never got to know.
