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Nobody in my family would tell they were ashamed for me.

I thought I was pregnant but wasn't quite sure. The night I decided I was going tomorrow morning to get a test, I miscarried. It was November 16, 2007. I wasn't really sure what to feel or what to say. Nobody in my family would tell anyone else like they were ashamed for me. Like it was a secret that couldn't be told. Two years later, I once again thought I had another miscarriage, or so the doctor thought. I was to come back in a couple of weeks and have my hormones tested to make sure they were going back down. Before that happened, I had severe pain. I called the doctor and explained that I just had a miscarriage and asked what I should do. She told me to go the the E.R. I did and after some tests and ultrasounds I was told that I was actually pregnant but the baby was in my right fallopian tube. The only way to save myself was to have the tube with my baby in it removed. This happened on April 1, 2009. No, it's not an April fool's joke. I still have a chance to get pregnant with one remaining tube, but it hasn't happened yet. It's been 7 and 5 years since I lost my babies and there isn't one single day that goes by that I don't think about them. I'm constantly amazed at the love I feel for them even though I've never met them. I miss them. I named them Conway and Lily. And the hardest part is having no one to talk to. Nobody want's to bring it up for fear of upsetting me or making me sad. Don't they realize by not doing it that I'm upset and sad and alone. Several of my friends have had miscarriages, but it's not the same. They have at least one other living child. I have none. And even though it's been so long, it still hurts just as bad as it did then.

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