Miscarriage is not for wimps.
I thought that I was a wimp, but then I taught four 75-minute classes yesterday, came home, cooked dinner, played with Dot, & only cried for about 5 minutes in the bathroom. This morning, I led a work meeting and cancelled my ultrasound appointment.
I’m sure that women have been doing this since the dawn of time, but it’s new to me.
I would have rather learned that I could do something else, like tie a maraschino cherry stem into a knot with my tongue, or sing contralto, something that would have been impressive and fun and wouldn’t have involved character building.