Angels

On this day, four years ago, I found out I was pregnant. I had spent the past six months trying to talk husband into baby number two.

While pregnant with my daughter I honestly didn't know if I would want more children. After she was born I was so in love. My very existence revolved around this little girl, that I had wished upon every falling star I saw because I wanted a daughter so much it made my heart hurt. I just couldn't possibly imagine being able to love another human being as much as I loved her. And I wanted all my effort, time and love to be directed towards her. Around the time she turned eighteen months I got hit with the baby bug HARD. Like a ton of bricks. All I could think about was how much I wanted another baby. More than anything else in the whole wide world.

At first husband was very adamant that our little family of three was perfect. I even got a puppy to try to distract my insane desire for a baby. That worked for about two months. Then one night husband and I were watching "Coyote Ugly" for the first time, it had just come out on DVD. At the end of the movie he turned to me and asked what would make all my dreams come true (there's a line in the movie at the end where Jersey says all her dreams had come true). Without hesitation I told him it would be to have another baby. And he said yes.

That same week I began the steps to change my insurance and had my IUD removed. I got pregnant two weeks later. I remember the day so vividly. Husband has been pushing me to test. I kept insisting it was too early to and that I really didn't think I possibly could be pregnant so soon. It had taken us six months to get pregnant with our daughter. But as soon as he left for work I took one and it immediately came up positive. I couldn't believe how quickly it had happened. I was estatic.

Two days later on Thanksgiving we told our entire family.

Friday January 18 I began spotting. I was 18 weeks pregnant. My "big" ultrasound was exactly one week away. I panicked. It was too early in the morning to call my doctor's office. I began thumbing through every single one of my pregnancy books, surfing the internet for any type of information. Finally I could call my doctor's office. The RN I spoke with tried to be very reassuring. That at this point, as far along as I was, in my pregnancy it was most likely that I had simply done too much and should put my feet up and rest. I was hiking five days a week, a stay at home mom to my daughter....that idea wasn't completely unlikely. Despite her constant reassuring I was still in panic mode. Finally at my persistence she reluctantly agreed to let me come in for an ultrasound.

By the time I arrived at the office the spotting had stopped. The RN performed an ultrasound. She had nothing to say. She kept using the wand to go over and over my already enlarged belly. She excused herself to go find my doctor. For what seemed an eternity I waited. Finally my doctor came into the room, and she repeated the motions the RN had. And that's when they confirmed the dread that I already felt in the pit of my stomach. There wasn't a heartbeat, the baby had stopped growing 4 weeks earlier.

There is no way to describe or put into words the complete devastation I felt at that moment. Hopes and dreams were shattered...just...like...that. How could this happen? Why did this happen? The moments that followed are a blur. The days that follow are a blur as well. A D&C was scheduled for Monday although I miscarried naturally over the weekend.

That was one of the most difficult, darkest times in my life. I'm not sure how I survived those days and months to follow. My best friend at the time sent me a simple email that stated "you will endure". And I did. I had another miscarriage later on that same year. Although that one was early and there were clear signs even from the beginning that it wasn't a viable pregnancy. Never in my life did I think I would be talking about "viable pregnancies". It's such a cold, disheartening word. I remember thinking that the only possible thing that would mend my broken heart was to be pregnant again.

On my 30th birthday I was given the best present imaginable to me....a positive test and after bed rest and jumping through hoops to sustain the pregnancy, I went on to deliver my son at 35 weeks. And I love him so much my heart aches sometimes. He was an incredibly difficult baby, very high maintenance. My marriage took a huge hit. But none of it mattered. He has changed my views, my opinions, ME. I am so much a better person by having him in my life.

I'm not sure the significance of me remembering this day. It's not something I tend to dwell on or think about often. I mean, these moments in my life are a part of me but certainly not WHO I am. Possibly it's because how I've felt over the past few months and most specifically the past few weeks is so similar to what I went through in the days, weeks and months following my miscarriage. I'll just keep repeating those words my friend said to me so many years ago....I will endure.

EE danced at 9:43 AM
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