And yet my broken heart still beats...

Despite all that I have gone through... despite all that I have endured... despite all the pain that I still feel... my broken heart continues to beat.

Some days, it is a blessing. Some days, a curse. Some days, it just intensifies the pain.

Don't take this the wrong way; I don't wish to die. I used to. I used to beg for Chris to let me go be with Kylie, to let me go live with her in Heaven and take care of her, but I am beyond that part of my grief. Jaycee needs me. Chris needs me. Kylie needs me HERE on earth. I am not finished letting the world know about Kylie and how to help other babies like her.

There's so much to do.

And my heart still beats. Broken, mangled, and torn, it beats to a different sound than most. It is low, mournful, and irregular, but it is there.

Today has been a rough day. It started off completely wrong, and it just got worse.

To top it off, I started my period this evening. I knew it would be soon, but I was hoping somewhere deep down that the low progesterone level wouldn't prevent a pregnancy. I want this so badly, and I just feel that stabbing pain that I thought I'd never worry about again-- the thought that I might not ever have a child. That pain stabbed at me for 5 years of marriage, and it also stabbed at me as a teenager... and then Kylie graced our lives with her creation, and then she left... and now I'm hopeless again. I hate this feeling that my body has failed me. I hate having a medical condition that gives you so little to be positive about. I hate having a medical condition that changes from day to day... I mean hello? Three years off and on of fertility treatments, and then she comes on her own about 6 months later... and now I can't get my body to even respond to meds.

I feel like I've been thrown into this never-ending, always repeating nightmare... like the cycle continues on forever, and I can't get out of it. This circle keeps going, and it expands, and it starts to curve, giving me hope, and then it's like it laughs in my face and pushes me back into the circle, telling me it just won't end.

When will life stop picking on me? Why can't good people like us, people who love children and desperately want to be parents, have children? Why do bad things happen to good people? I'm not saying i'm perfect, but I feel like I deserve good things, and that I don't deserve this horrible fate that has been bestowed upon me.

My life is so screwed up.