A year after your dad and I were married we decided we wanted a baby. What we didn’t know was that we wanted you. We had been told that because of my health and extremely irregular cycles getting pregnant would be a “shot in the dark”. We figured we’d try anyways. A few months later, a few symptoms later, and a hormonal outburst that resulted in me slapping a friend in the arm at a restaurant (funny story actually, but it sounds worse than it is) I decided to take a test. It was a digital test and there was no denying what the results were as it flashed “Pregnant” across the tiny screen. I ran to tell your dad and he was in shock. We hadn’t expected it to be so easy!
It wasn’t. I lost the pregnancy as I contracted and huddled on the floor a few weeks later. Just like that…you were gone.
Emotionally it took a toll on me, but I was determined to have you in my arms. We began to try again. Months later I was pregnant again and this time they wanted to monitor me a little more closely. Things progressed well and then once again, a little less tragically, we lost you again. You were so close to me. You were growing. Yet, you were gone again.
Devastated, my doctor decided that it was best for me to see a specialist. I already had so many things weighing against me that it was time for more help. We went in for consultations. We did the ultrasounds, the meds, the bloodwork. We tried and tried. My health was failing, but I was fighting. You were supposed to be here. I knew my son would come.
A year later we were pregnant again. While pregnant I went to Capitol Hill to fight for lupus advocacy. We needed more funding, medications, anything to make this horrible disease go away. I needed to fight it so that I could have you. I stood there, with my hand on my stomach, praying that thirds time was a charm.
I had failed yet again. I began to doubt my abilities at becoming a mother and being a mother. There weren’t any other options for us. None that we could agree on. I didn’t think you would come to me and I cried. I cried at the pregnant women that walked by me. I cried at the women that had “unplanned” pregnancies. I cried for my friends that were struggling. I cried when I saw a baby. I missed you and I hadn’t even met you.
Your grandmother went to a psychic and while I don’t often believe in them I believed this one, but not until years had passed. She had said that I had a child that was waiting for their younger sibling to be ready to come, too. The older child kept trying to come, but the younger said “No, not yet” so the older child would go back. The older child was protective of the younger one and would continue to be once they came down. I didn’t believe it. I had failed so many times already.
My health caused me to quit my job. I had fought it for so long, but with no other choice and nothing left I gave in and submitted my resignation. I came to terms that I wouldn’t have children. I came to terms that you were too good for me.
Then that summer, I was pregnant again. We watched it so closely. We didn’t even act excited. We were more scared than anything. I couldn’t go through this again. I held my breath expecting everything to fall apart. Six weeks into the pregnancy they had me come in for an ultrasound. Only the specialist and I were there. Your father was at work. I had had some spotting and the doctor told me to come in and they’d check me out. As I laid on that table closing my eyes scared of the words that were about to come out of the doctors mouth. Then he said it…
“You see that?”
“What?” I opened my eyes and raised my head to look at the smudges of black and grey on the screen.
“That, that flicker.”
I began to cry for every reason I hadn’t cried for before.
Eight months later you were born on Christmas Day. You were early, but that was because you were excited to meet us. A little over two years later your brother was born. As I sit here, five months after his birth, I am watching you play with your brother. Him on his tummy, you on your knees. Both of you laughing for probably completely different reasons. I begin to realize that the psychic was right. You were waiting for him and you will love him with all of your being. Sure you may fight, but you’ll protect him just like she said.
I think about how hard it was to get you here and then I hear him giggle as you say his name. It is in that moment that I realize…that is what makes it all worth it.
Share with us your stories of love, loss, and what makes it all worth it at Mothers’ Hideaway
This post has been posted in Fun Follow Friday, Friendly Friday, Finer Things Friday,New Friend Fridays