1.0Vicky Goodenhttp://www.vickygooden.comvickygoodenhttp://www.vickygooden.com/index.php/author/vickygooden/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="Url1MYxTOi"><a href="http://www.vickygooden.com/index.php/2017/05/05/sad-and-scared/">Sad and scared.</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="http://www.vickygooden.com/index.php/2017/05/05/sad-and-scared/embed/#?secret=Url1MYxTOi" width="600" height="338" title="“Sad and scared.” — Vicky Gooden" data-secret="Url1MYxTOi" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script> /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=http://www.vickygooden.com/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js </script> https://i0.wp.com/www.vickygooden.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_3741.jpg?fit=2233%2C9022233902I don’t know what to say this morning. I’m lost. Completely. So I’m just going to let it flow here from my bed as the dustmen clang around outside. I burst into tears when I least expect it. Actually ‘burst’ isn’t the right word. It’s more of an uncontrollable hot pressure behind my eyes that begins to release really slowly at first as I try to swallow them back, as I try to manage my breathing. It happened yesterday in public in a little cafe as hubs and I were killing time before my follow up hospital appointment. I was just eating with my husband. I wasn’t surrounded by pregnant people or in the waiting room of the gynae dept, facing miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy posters or people exploding from the scan room, elated at seeing their gorgeous developing bean. We were just talking about life. About me going back to work. About what I’d like to do before then. And everything just seemed so pointless. The little cafe in Richmond i’d like to go to. A daytrip in the sun to Whitstable. I looked at those words on my ‘add to planner’ list on my phone and they seemed […]