One month since going to the hospital, and what a month it has been. I wish more than anything I could say that we stumbled on magic and everything is better, but that is far from the truth. I have never worked so hard to try to get better, and have subsequently never felt so much pain. I still can't talk about what happened leading up to the hospital. It hurts too much, and my heart is not ready to feel the emotions that accompany those memories yet. I'm sure that day will come eventually, but for now, I am trying to get back to a good, stable place using every resource available to me and still finding myself just trying to get through a lot of days. Many days, I cry as the grief of not being able to have another baby washes over me. It's so heartbreaking accepting that reality. I never ever thought any of this would be my life, and I don't know how to be okay with it yet. I also never thought I could survive such intense, persisting pain, but somehow that is happening. If there is one thing I know when everything else is so confusing, it's that I love my family and that love has never been stronger. They are why I can and want to go on.
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