I woke up Wednesday at 4am to a phone call: The London Guardian asking for an interview about my miscarriage twitter. Then a half-hour later, an Irish radio station. And then the phone kept ringing.

I told Now Magazine (I think it’s basically People magazine for the UK audience) to call back after I got the kids off to school. I asked my housemanager to come early because I couldn’t handle the sleep deprivation and the early-morning interviews and school lunches all in one morning.

I blocked out the morning to write a thousand-word essay for the Guardian to justify tweeting about my miscarriage. Which the Guardian wants done in the next 20 hours.

Now magazine wants to know if they can send a photographer to take a photo of my kids.

No.

Or the farmer?

No.

What about if their faces are blurred?

No. (But this at least makes the farmer laugh.)

The Today show called Tuesday to see if I could be on the show on Thursday. I said yes. They call in between the Guardian and Now magazine to ask if I can fly there.

The first thing I think is that my kids were so sad that I was not