This was a very sad week. We learned last week that Lindsay's baby had died in utero. They scheduled an extraction for Tuesday, but then the surgical center called to say they couldn't do it that day and moved it to Thursday. Wednesday night / Thursday around 1 am, she had a miscarriage. They spent the night in the hospital.
It was a little boy, whom they named Ewan Warner (variants of John and Warren). They're treating him as a lost child and having cremation and services. I'm opposed to those kinds of things for the first trimester, when there's no viability for the fetus, but every mother has her own way.
My weight lost journey has come to a halt altogether. My frustration is causing me to snack more as well, which makes me mad at myself. I'm back to 201--it's only five pounds, but I wanted it to go DOWN. I just don't know what to do. Maybe try to add in more exercise without swimming yet.
My foobs are settling nicely now, but I'm still very sore. I don't know how much is a torn rotator cuff. I just know I hurt a lot!
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