I did not cry. For two weeks I did not cry. As I laid there staring at the ultrasound monitor while the doctor kept adjusting the angle of the ultrasound wand, searching, hunting for a heartbeat, I did not cry. When we sat and tried to determine if our dates were “right” or if they could possible be “off” and the doctor spun his pregnancy calculator wheel to see if the measurements had any possibility of being correct, I did not cry. When the financial coordinator started asking about making our hospital copayment and for the first time I had to say that there was a chance the pregnancy was “no good”, I did not cry. Standing in the parking lot, reminding myself how to take a normal breath while my husband carefully looked me over, assessing to see if I was ok to safely drive the 45 minutes home, I did not cry. We waited ten days to find out that no, there was not a heartbeat, and no, the baby is not growing anymore. Still, I did not cry. I matter-of-factly...