I don't need your stinkin' faith.

I wish there was a way to send out a mental bulletin to everyone who knew I was pregnant.

"Hey, Lyndsey had a miscarriage last week. Better not ask her how the baby is doing!"

People try to be nice, and tell me to have faith that this happened at the right time in my life. WHEN is the RIGHT TIME to have a miscarriage? Please, tell me. That way I can plan my next pregnancy to not be at that time.

I wonder how long it'll take for me to stop crying myself to sleep every night. It seems like the hurt isn't getting any better. And when I'm not crying, I'm raging angry...and that's better, because angry feels more functional than sad. I learned that this week...when I'm angry, at least I can actually think. When I'm feeling sad, I cry until I can't breathe or see, and I may or may not throw up.

It's taken every ounce of self control I have not to dive head-first into a bottle of rum this week. However, given my incredibly addictive personality....that's not a good idea. I'm sure there are other ways to get through this...but it's getting harder and harder to keep myself distracted these days.

I told Casey that I want to take a vacation. I'm even willing to do it unpaid. We just need to go somewhere and turn off our cell phones and just be with each other. Find a Bed and Breakfast on a beach somewhere (not here) and just relax, and try not to be sad or mad for a couple of days. Unfortunately for me...I don't see any time for that in the foreseeable future.

Casey says we will probably be sad until I get pregnant again. He's probably right.