Blood work

I woke up today with a sense of accomplishment. I knew that today I would go to Labcorp and get my blood drawn for the metabolic panel that the doctor ordered since it was clots in the placenta that killed my precious son Leo. I thought I'd be happy because in the end there could be answers. They could figure out a way to stop it from happening if there is ever another chance. Instead I found myself crying off all the makeup I had just put on before I even got there. I pulled into the parking lot and dried my eyes and sucked it up and went inside. I had an appointment so you'd think I wouldn't need to sit for long, but alas. While I waited for my name to be called a young girl walked in with her infant son and i had to shield my eyes. I thought back to 2 months prior when I had last been to this lab. I was getting my glucose tolerance test done and I had fasted for that as well, but it was different now since it was just me that was hungry. No kicks from Leo. No rubbing the belly. God forbid I touch that big fat roll now. No baby to show but sure did get some fat out of the deal. Anyways, I started to cry again. Fuck me. Tears flowing, the lady next to me clears her throat. Yes bitch, I'm crying. They finally called my name and I finally took off my sunglasses. I bawled through all 15 vials of blood.