On April 18, I sent this announcement to my family:
By April 28, I had to take it back. I'd been bleeding for days and the ultrasound showed nothing. I'd miscarried at 5.5 weeks.
Already sluggish because of pregnancy and the fallout from The Big Test, not to mention one of the coldest winters in years (never my best season), I had fallen behind in my Intro to Graduate Studies course. By the time this happened, there was no way to catch up. I was behind in grading for my two classes of freshman composition as well, barely keeping my head above water.
While Ken was supportive and sweet, he was sad too. His job doing DNA sampling at OSU was miserable, and it hurt him as much as it hurt me to have to tell his mother in India that we'd spoken too soon. We just didn't understand what was happening with us. Why had we moved to Stillwater in December if I was just going to flunk out of grad school? What was God's purpose in all this? Why?
