Loss.

15 years ago this month I had a miscarriage. No one knows. I was two months along, alone, scared and not wanting to be pregnant.

When I started bleeding I cried, and I couldn't tell if I was happy or sad.

10 years ago this month my ob-gyn put me on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy that would result in my daughter. The whole time I was expecting her I dreamed of a baby boy with dark brown eyes and hair.

At the first follow up after she was born, I was advised that I shouldn't have any more children if I was interested in living to parent the one I had currently.

Now I look back, and I'm so sad about that miscarriage. Though there is no rhyme or reason to it, no logic or sense at all, I believe that that was my baby boy.

I never knew I wanted a son until I learned I would never bear one.