In my dream, I was shocked. I was so certain I'd have a girl next. Then I remember wondering if my body would carry this boy long enough.

If my dreams are like this already, what will they be like when I'm actually pregnant again?

We were at the hospital yesterday, but it wasn't for anything as exciting or wonderful as an ultrasound. We talked to the perinatologist who went over the placental pathology report. I know what happened now, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

When we got home, I felt a profound emptiness. I don't know what I expected. That we'd leave the hospital with a baby? That we could go back in time? That I would come home and know I would have a baby in my arms in nine months?

I can't put words around it. It just feels so final.

"You need to wait at least 6-12 months before trying again," the doctor said.

She might as well have punched my gut. Haven't we waited long enough for a baby? Doesn't she know it took us 18 months before Kaleb's life began?

On the drive home, my husband said, "I'd like to have a baby by July."