A lot can happen in two short years...

Today is Bryan's and my 2nd wedding anniversary. I found our honeymoon pictures yesterday; they had been lost since we moved up from California. As Bryan and I flipped through those pictures, we were both amazed at how much we have both changed (mostly horizontally-- Notice on the left the before and after shots...my arm is broken in the second picture (honeymoon)-hence the bump and no arm in the sleeve) as well as how much has happened in such a short time.
These past few years have tried and strained our marriage in unbelieveable ways. However, we have grown together and have a trust that probably would have taken a much longer time to develop had we not endured all that we have together. I can truly say that Bryan is my best friend, and I cannot imagine what my life would be without him by my side.
For me, this day is a bit bittersweet however. Our first year of marriage was spent with me caring for my mom as she slowly lost her battle to cancer. As I reflect and rejoice in Bryan's and my small feat, I am also saddened to think that less one year ago, my mom was still with us. It has been an emotional month to say the least- mom's birthday was the 8th, then we learned the sad news about our baby, and then today, a moment of happiness and a feeeling of accomplishment.
We are both looking forward, hoping for more good days ahead, leaving most of the bad ones behind.
Now I would like to take a moment to whine:
I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but I feel like I have a pretty decent pain threshold. I've had so many broken bones, life-threatening illnesses and weird medical issues that it's almost comical. But because of this, I feel like I can pretty much handle most that's thrown at me. So, when the doctors said last week that I was going to miscarry in a few days, I was obviously devastated, but I innocently wasn't all that concerned about the actual physical implications of the miscarriage. My doctor's had said it would be just a little worse than my monthly visitor.
I would like to now take a moment and say how wrong I was- and furthermore, how wrong my doctors were. Never have I been in so much pain as I was on Saturday. I have had meningitis, 4 spinal taps, I have torn my rotator cuff and my achilies tendon among other things. Those seemed like bee stings compared to what I felt on Saturday. At one point, while I was writhing on the couch, and I declared to Bryan that "if this is what I have to look forward to when I actually have a baby, I'm here to say I'm going to need a lot of medication, or we need to seriously look into adoption."
I had had two miscarriages before, but they were both within the first month, so they really weren't horrible, physically. This time around, I was half-way through my 4th month. Things were a bit different.
We were on the phone w/ the doctor several times, who kept calling for status checks; we were debating whether I needed to go to the hospital, but I really didn't want to unless it was absolutely necessary. So she called a few times, to check in and by 11pm, things finally started to settle down, and we determined I would be okay.
I have to check in with my doctor tomorrow morning.
I would like to say that Bryan spoke with a friend of ours, who has had three miscarriages- (at the end of the first trimester, or into the 2nd.) She confirmed that in fact a miscarriage is worse than actually giving birth--at least for her. This is good to know, because I was seriously doubting my abilities to be that tough after all that I experianced this weekend. Perhaps I'm just a bit more dramatic or emotional right now, but I'm here to say that nobody should ever be in that much pain.