"It Could Be Worse"

Got outside to work in our yard this weekend. Flowers blooming like crazy. It's good to get out...I've been so cooped up all winter. My mom was over the other day and said, "Wow, are you ever pale." Good to be out in the sunshine again.

My husband to me over the weekend: "How are you doing?" (A question we've been asking each other multiple times a day since we found out our baby had died.)

Me: "OK. You?"

Him: "OK." Pause. "It could be worse, you know."

Me: "What do you mean?"

Him: "If the scale of bad is 1 to 100, with 100 being the worst, I figure this is about an 80."

Me: "Yeah, it feels about like an 80 to me too." Pause. "What would be 100? You dying? Me dying?"

Him: "Anyone we love dying."

Still feeling pretty raw a week after everything went down. Dealing with a lot of money stuff today as bills for the pregnancy have started coming in (I have a high-deductable health insurance plan so we're paying the first few thousand out-of-pocket), and we've talked with the clinic about the price for an FET (expensive, not as much as IVF, but still a lot of money we weren't expecting to have to spend.)

Just trying to keep telling myself, "It could be worse."