This was March 1992. This time I had been to the doctor and he had found a heartbeat. My girls had a Primary activity watching a movie, then we were going to leave for to Pleasant Grove without my man this time. I thought I would let the girls hear the heartbeat before we left, so we all went to the doctor's office. He couldn't find the heartbeat, then he said, "Now you'll probably worry all weekend." I wouldn't have if he hadn't of said that. So I felt that the baby had died. I told my family in PG but they didn't say, "I'm sorry," or "That's too bad" or anything about it. I was so sad that no one said anything that I went and bought myself flowers. When I got back to Preston I got an ultrasound and the man doing it just kept typing (that it had died) and I felt so sad. I had to have a D & C, and lost lots of blood there. I was anemic and listless for a while. Man and I went to the temple with Terri and Bruce Spackman not long after because it was ward temple night. Terri's a great lady. I wasn't feeling too perky.
Then next was Sheena in June of 1994.
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