Why am I here?

  I stumbled across this site by accident. And honestly, I don't expect many, if any, to read this. In truth, I am not that interesting.
  Hi, my name is Debbie. I'm 31, almost 32, and live in a little boon dock town you've probably never heard of in PA. My days are spent taking care of my family, I have no job currently but have worked as a Nurse prior and am attending college to become a Surgical Tech. I have 5 beautiful daughters: Kayla, 13; Kaitlyn, 10; Kellie, 9; KaraNicole, 8; and Angela Summer, 5. I also have 4 handsome sons: Robert, 11; Brandon, 4; Bret Michael, 18 months; and Logan Joseph (aka Logie Bear) who has gone to Heaven.
 Yes, I have a large family and NO, I DON'T care what you think about it.
 I've always considered myself one of the lucky ones, my life is full and very blessed...but then, we lost Logan.
 I was having a textbook perfect pregnancy. The usual morning sickness, of course, but nothing difficult. Then I went in for an ultrasound. I know the tech didn't mean it, she thought I didn't hear, she even was so sweet trying to tell me sometimes in early pregnancy they can't see the heart beat, but I heard her say "nothing" as she scanned over my belly.
 Plus, I went in that morning KNOWING what they were going to tell me. Logan gave me signs. Not the usual signs like pain or bleeding. Signs saying "get ready to be strong, Momma, I had to leave". For a month, my random YouTube searches lead me to memorials of very small babies. At that time, I thought, how can someone survive this? Almost a year later, I am slowly learning.
 But I'm not LIVING yet. I take in oxygen, I eat, I talk, I even smile on occasion. But often, I feel empty. I know someday I will get there.
 Immediately after that ultrasound I went outside and called my Obgyn.  I told the nurse, who has been with me through almost all my pregnancies, that I KNEW that he was gone and I wanted them to tell me right then instead of the next day, which just happened to be my birthday. I still had to go to the office on my birthday for them to examine me..I may never celebrate a birthday again, but wait, it gets worse.
  Because I was showing no immediate signs of delivering, and I had already paid for a trip out of town for that weekend, my doctor was going to induce me Monday. However, as I was packing the next morning, my water broke. So, I ended up having Logan that day which coincidentally happens to be his Daddy's birthday and my deceased sister's birthday. Dear March 19, I HATE you forever.
  I held my little man as long as they would allow. He looked just like his sister, Angela, and had the sweetest smile on his face. He went to sleep dreaming of angels and woke up surrounded by them. I love him. I miss him. I wish he were with me now.
  I would gladly trade the sleepless silent nights I have now for sleepless nights listening to crying. I will never have that again. Originally, I thought I would try again. I can't ever replace Logan but my arms ache for a newborn. I held a 6 month old this weekend and wanted to die. However, my husband shot that idea down. He claims it's because he is scared it will happen again.
 Does he blame me? Does he think I'm flawed because I couldn't keep our son safe? We refused an autopsy so will never know if there was something wrong.
  I blame myself...I'm overweight and I know that could cause miscarriages. It could be my fault.
  So, here I am. Raw and open. Writing this not to be read but to be held accountable for my actions and for what I become. I need to believe in myself again. I need to lose weight desperately before my children are left without a Mother. And I need to dream again.