It hurts to write this post. I won't go into much detail, but I need to talk openly somewhere.
I went to the hospital Friday afternoon thinking I would just be getting some tests done. Within a few hours the doctor was telling me I had preeclampsia, and that the only way to treat it was to deliver the baby. There was just no chance of the baby surviving at such a young age.
Heart broken, we got to see her moving one more time on the ultrasound. And then the inducing began, 35 hours later I gave birth to our little girl. She was still born.
We named her Olive. After her great-great-great grandma. She looked so much like her Dad.
I was finally released from the hospital Wednesday. 5 days in the hospital. I am still recovering. I have lost almost 20 pounds of water that I was retaining.
There is so much positive to look at. But it's so hard on me to understand why this happened. It seems so unfair. I am lucky to be alive in someways. But I really miss having that little being inside of me. I'll meet her again, and I know she understood, and would want it to be the way it is.
I fear what comes next. Depression. Self harm. Restricting. Am I strong enough to fight it? I honestly don't know. I hope, for Olive, I can be stronger.
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