Grief.

Not a lot of people knew this, but Vanessa was pregnant. Not a lot of people new this because it was very recent. Only a few weeks. This baby was planned and a welcome addition to our home. We were so excited.

But that excitement has turned to extreme sadness. On Sunday night, Vanessa started bleeding. We went to the hospital where they drew blood, had her pee in a cup, did a cervical exam and an internal ultrasound. All done just so that they could send us home with a prescription for another blood test in two days and nothing in the way of answers.

So we waited. Then, on Tuesday, we took a blood test only to be told that the results wouldn't be available until the next day. So we waited again.

Then we finally got the call. Her levels were lower. There was no baby anymore. Vanessa had miscarried.

After three days of waiting and hoping and giving up and returning to hope and then giving up again the end result was anticlimactic. There was no surge of emotion, no tears. Just more emptiness and numbness. Truthfully, I don't know how to feel or what to do. I lack motivation to do anything except sit. Life is zooming by all around me and I have no inclination to join the world.

I'm sad. I wanted another baby. I love being a dad. It is, without a doubt, the greatest thing to happen to me. I love my kids so much. And the idea of having another little one to snuggle against my chest, roll on the ground with, teach to brush their teeth, all of the stuff that comes with being a parent, it absolutely thrilled me. This, more than anything, is something that I was born to do. I'm good at it. They make me better.

And now I feel like I've been robbed of it.

People might say that we're over-reacting, that this was hardly a baby. I call bullshit on that. This was MY baby. In my heart, they weren't just a thing, they were my child. And losing a child is an awful thing.

I'm scared to move on. I'm scared to try again.

I can be strong. I can be brave. We will survive this.