Michael keeps reminding me that, no matter how I deliver, at the end we will have a baby. And he's right. I'm trying to keep my eyes on the prize. I'll be okay.

But tonight it's hard, and I'm sad.

And you're entitled. This is not what you wanted, and not what you hoped for, and that's painful.

I'm thinking of you, for what that's worth. Of you, and of curiousangel, and of all the others involved (including the baby, whose LJ I expect to friend inside six months of their birth).