Well, there goes my nap.

I was exhausted, now I'm panicked.  I love you, Jim, but...really?  We were having a conversation this afternoon while playing pool.  The conversation started innocent enough.  I mentioned how tired I was and then I said it was for a good cause.  Then I added, "well, at least I hope so."  Jim said he was thinking the same thing.  We're a little scared.  Understandable I think, after everything we have been through.  So I mentioned how incredibly small the statistics were for the same thing happening again.  It's like 1% of the 1.5% that it is for a stillbirth to happen at all.  So, my engineer hubby mentioned this was how statistics work.  Stopping there would have been good, wonderful, helpful.  My poor hubby, who has been so wonderful throughout this whole ordeal, did not stop there, however.  He goes on to tell me that that statistic is only true if there is a known reason for the stillbirth to have happened to begin with.  Otherwise, he tells me, the statistics are the same.  I started sobbing.  A lot.  I lost my appetite for pool-playing and I left.  Sorry, Jim, about the lack of a hug.  At least I didn't smack you.  Now, here I sit on the couch after furiously cleaning, wrapping gifts, and folding clothes.  My brain is running a million miles a minute and there is no hope of a nap anytime soon.  And I am tired.  Maybe writing this will help my brain shut down.  Please, Lord, let that be the case, I need to sleep.