The Best, Worst Day of My Life: part I

So, I have been putting off writing this post for several days.  I don't entirely know why, though part of the reason is that I feel like this story of mine is "all told out."  You see, for about a year after everything happened I feel like I spent most of my time telling people the story. Partly because everyone around me had heard bits and pieces and were curious and concerned. And partly because I was still trying to process it and, for me, talking about it helped.  (I am sure that those who were around me a lot got pretty sick and tired of hearing the story over and over as I told whoever hadn't yet heard, but they were always patient.)    :)

So, you see, I am tired of it, and telling it at this point mostly just makes it seem like a sob story.
However, recently I realized that my story is important.  I remembered that right after I got out of the hospital, I spent a lot of time online reading about what other women went through, and that those stories gave me hope and painted a MUCH brighter picture of my future than the doctors did. So I am going to share my journey again.  And I can only hope that, along with raising awareness, my story will give some other woman hope.  Because I am a PPCM survivor...