This stigma stinks

I feel like a stigma is following me around lately. And I can't seem to shake the stink of it.

Miscarriage. It's an awful experience that about 20 percent of all pregnant women suffer. Think about that. One of every five women who conceive lose their child. Unbelievable. And supposedly most women miscarry at least once in their lives without even knowing. (Ever have a period that is unusually heavy? That's one of the many signs.)

And since everyone at work knows that Brent and I lost our first child together, every so often someone comes up to me with those pity-filled eyes and asks in a low voice, "how ya doin?" Don't get me wrong -- I know they care and are only asking because they worry. But I hate being treated with kid gloves.


Yes, some days are better than others. But I'll make it through. We'll make it through. Because we're Team Burkey, you see.

Of course, every time I see a baby stroller or a pregnant woman, I always wonder what I did wrong and why that person deserved a child instead of me. In reality, I should be happy for them. After all, who knows what that family has suffered, how many lost children, how long it took them to conceive.

I should count my blessings, look up to Heaven and thank God for little Morgan Ashland. Our little angel who has changed our lives forever.