By the time we'd gotten home... He was ecstatic. It seemed that simple to him, as he flew to open my door, beaming. I tried to keep up my facade, smiling falsely. Once we'd gotten inside I ran to the bathroom, while his back was turned. I locked the door and flicked the lid of the toilet down, sitting on it and dropping my head in my hands. It was a one off thing, the doctor had said it. So had my fiancee, all the way home, over and over. To convince himself as much as me I'm sure.I understood it, really I did. It made sense. Try, try, try again, right? But, my heart was still healing from the last one. How careful would I have to be this time, when last time every move I made my mind was on how it affected my baby? How petrified would I be, when I was terrified before? What if it happened again? Would we make it? I knew that I couldn't just do it for my him. I had to decide on my own aswell. Because if I lost it again, I'd immediately place blame on him, and possibly lose my marriage aswell as my baby. I was getting older though, and I knew that the doctor was suggesting this so soon because as women age, they're pregnancies can become more complicated. I didn't really have the time to waste. So in the five minutes I sat on the toilet seat I did my night time ritual. I considered everything that had happened. For starters, We'd spent months trying to get me pregnant, and just when all hope had seemed lost and we decided different methods might have to be adopted, it had happened. A blessing, a miracle. We had both been so excited, even though the doctor had tried to keep us grounded. "Anything can happen in the first three months." We made it through the first trimester easy though. I suffered my way through morning sickness that lasted all day long (boy, had they falsely advertised that one!), and the constant need to use the facilities. But then something had happened, that no one expected. I froze, tears stinging in my eyes at the memory of that day in my doctors office. How had that affected today? In the blatantly obvious ways. I was childless, and broken hearted, but there was still hope. We could try again. And this time, be way more careful. I was sure my fiancee would all but wrap me in cotton wool and throw me in our room. I smiled slightly, and realised that I hadn't needed to think at all. Sure, I'd wanted THAT baby, more than anything in the world. But before she'd come along, I had just wanted one in general. Just because my heart was clouding my mind, didn't mean that in a few years, when it was too late, my thoughts would still be blurred. In a few years, my mind would clear, and I'd realise just what I'd missed out on. Sure, she hadn't got to live her life, but she hadn't died in pain. She'd just died. Did that mean my life had to stop..? So lastly, how would this affect tomorrow? I smiled brighter standing up and walking to the door, throwing it open to see my fiancee standing there, panicked, his hand half raised to knock. Hopefully with two pink lines on a little white stick and a baby's basinet on layby.