Yesterday was two weeks since the miscarriage, and today I decided to try and get back into some sort of routine. Started going for a short walk in the morning -- even though it is tiring it does brighten my day and I've got to regain my stamina. I got off the sofa and did two loads of laundry. Being busy does help to get my mind away from sad thoughts.
Honestly, I am not as sad as I thought I would be. Instead I am feeling empty and a sense that something is missing. I have cried, and had a few teary nights right before bed. Nights are the worst for me and it's been like that since my twenties. I've cried myself to sleep far too often and have ruined many a pillow with my tears.
DH holding me usually calms me down. He is terribly unhappy at work these days and I listen to him as he vents his frustration in the evenings, but I just can't be there for him to make him feel better because I've got to make myself better. Sometimes it's difficult being someone's rock when you're on quick sand.
These days I try to find happiness in small things and hope to fill my emptiness with them. I have a large vase full of red and orange tulips that brighten my spirits and make me smile. The winter olympics have been a godsend and I watch NBC coverage during the day and in the evening. Take each day as it comes because each day it gets better, and soon this empty feeling will be gone. This too shall pass.