Eyas

This post is rather long and rambl-ey, so I will start with the TL;DR.
I was going to have a baby. I am not any more.

I skipped my period in  December, and began to get a bit suspicious. I was also starting to wake up nauseated. Little Hawk refused to get prematurely excited, so off we went to Walgreens and came home with a fancy digital reader. Ding! Negative. We decided it was too early to tell and promptly forgot about it.
Then I skipped my next period. I was definitely having morning sickness, was exhausted all the time, and was very hormonal. Since my nausea ended about 4 every afternoon, I was glowing, and as happy as I have ever been. Three more negative tests later, Little Hawk and I were confused yet excited.  We did a teensy bit of name discussion and decided that the odds were in our favor.   After all, several knowledgeable people had told us not to rely too heavily on tests. So we went to the doctor for a blood draw. Little Hawk was fully on board at this point and was rushing to kiss my belly at every opportunity and whisper messages to the "maybe baby."
We were both so tense, we didn't get any sleep the night before. After drawing blood, the doctor told us that we wouldn't find out until Monday, but that a preliminary urinalysis suggested that I had an infection. Terrified that an infection would explain away the nausea, we rushed to the internet. Nope. Uti's are often a symptom of pregnancy. We returned to being excited. So excited.  SO SO EXCITED.

Then I had a miscarriage on Friday night.

I spent the last three days locked in the craft room and knitting, and if the socks I was finishing acquired a certain amount of tears, they won't be harmed by a bit of preshrinking. I was doing fine until we turned on the tv- and the channel had a show on where they were delivering a baby. Little Hawk and I both broke down in tears.
While we both understand that this is one of the simple truths of trying for babies, it doesn't make it hurt any less. I managed to go to work this weekend, but couldn't bring myself to go to class on Monday and face all my friends who were so happy for us.
We're going to be ok. Eventually. In the meantime, I'm going to cry into my sister's unfinished left legwarmer. Bamboo yarn doesn't shrink, right?