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When you lose your child... you lose the ability to say "ugh, today was the worst day ever".  It isn't.  You know it isn't.  It isn't even close to the worst day ever.  But today was a very bad day.  It even makes the top 10 list of bad days... and believe me, that is saying something.  Today I found out I am not pregnant.  Again.  And I am out of Clomid... and if I take it again I will be going over the 6 month recommendation of the medical community.  I honestly really haven't thought of this day.  I put everything I had into the last 4 months... all of my hope rested there.  I was CERTAIN we would get pregnant.  So certain, I refused to think of the alternative.  Where would we be if it didn't work?  And here I am.  In this place.  With no good options.  Do we go to more aggressive treatment, which we always said we wouldn't do?  Do we give up on having a child of our own and hope that an adoption works out for us within the next couple of years?  Thinking about 2 more years without the hope of a child makes me want to crawl in a dark hole and never come out.  I just keep thinking... what if Owen was it for me?  He's gone and I can't hold him, and what if that is all there is for my life?  If he had lived... that would have been enough.  I could have been happy just loving him.  But what do I do now?  I didn't think I could get any lower than I was... and yet here I am.