It's a surreal statement.

I was growing a human. Me. I still don't quite grasp it. Despite the positive pregnancy tests. Despite the morning sickness. Despite the unusual cravings. Despite the ultrasound that proved it and ended it. Despite having the surgery that removed it. Still doesn't feel quite real.

But, I was pregnant. For two months, I was a mom ... body and mind. My boobs hurt and my free time was spent considering the merits of various strollers. And then, well, I just wasn't. Pregnant, that is. And the hormones tapered off. My boobs felt normal. And I cleared the cache on my computer so I'd stop seeing baby gear ads.

This is the reality of a miscarriage. Intense feeling and a hesitancy to let the feeling flow.