Not Fun

Ten days into the new year I found myself in the hospital again. I had my second miscarriage Saturday night and I am really confused about how to deal with it this time. I thought that it would be better, as if the loss of a life that you were so prepared to love could get easier in any way, but it is not. I feel like after the first time I was still full of so much hope, however much I tried to down play it. "It won't happen again." "Everything happens for a reason." "It just wasn't the right timing." "It will happen for us next time."
This time those thoughts are not really going through my head. I feel empty and numb. I feel angry (something I don't want to feel), and jealous, and so overwhelmingly sad that those hopeful thoughts and reassurances have not been able to make their way into my brain, and there doesn't seem to be anything to make it better. I have been flooded with supportive phone calls and visits and flowers, all wonderful things that I appreciate more then everyone can know. But, what do you tell someone at a time like this? How do you make them feel better? I have never been really good at that sort of thing. It is hard to find the words, and to presume that you know what someone is feeling even if you have been through the same thing. I search for the right thing to say in those situations, but I am not sure that there is a right thing. I think that what I have figured out is that the words themselves will never make someone feel better, but the action of making the phone call to check in or sending the quick note or stopping by, lets the person know that you are thinking of them, that you love them, and that if you could make the pain go away you would.That love and support has helped me, and sometimes no words at all do the most. I got home from the hospital at 3 a.m. sunday and when I awoke I had a wonderful husband and a loving sister just ready to sit with me, do nothing else but sit, watch a little t.v., eat, and look at some magazines.And as I sat there all day long, the sadness began to lift, I started to talk, and then laugh, and it was just comforting to know that they would have sat there as long as I needed them to.